The One with the Green Thumb
by AkaYukiBloodySnow
Summary: Zetsu is injured on a mission and takes refuge within a bonsai in the flowershop of a girl who is certain she's useless. How does she choose then, between a dangerous cannibal who needs her, and a village that doesn't? Ino x Zetsu
1. Oaks and Bonsais

A/N Okay, guys, I'm back. And it took me forever didn't it. I could not think of a pairing to save my life. Actually that's not true, I could think of plenty pairings, but they eithre weren't crack enough for me or I couldn't come up with a good story for them. Finally, I just sat down at the computer and typed up this baby. No planning involved, so exact plotline is unclear.

There is implied sex in here and there is swearing, but I there are no lemons, and it's really not trashy or anything, trust me, don't worry.

This is in a way AU because I don't really follow the manga or the anime at all. Mostly because if I did everyone would be like dead now. So I stop following it around when Sasuke leaves. But it's still the same characters and world and stuff, it just doesn't follow the story line.

I'm not entirely sure of the age of Zetsu so here's kind of what I'm saying.  
Rookie Nine (including Ino)--- 18  
Zetsu --- 32 (That seems really old... oh well.)  
The rest of the ages you can just go ahead and guesstimate.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the world or the characters, because if I did I'd already be married to Umino Iruka.

Alrighty then, Ino x Zetsu fic here we go!

* * *

The howls of nin dogs echoed throughout the air, scaring small children from their beds and sending them running to their parent's rooms. Where ever the pack of Inuzukas went they left behind them a trail of awake and frightened villagers that had no idea what was going on, and only a vague desire to know.

The barks of canines in hot pursuit and the shouts of their boisterous human partners could be heard everywhere, and they rang in the ears of their victim. Sliding from tree to tree with his cloak torn, and even bloodied he left a clear path for his hunters to track. They were closing in, quickly, and with ferocious intent.

Such a peaceful night had never held such dire circumstances for the seasoned Akatsuki.

He was breathing hard by the time he melted into a thick and sturdy old oak, hoping that perhaps his smell wouldn't linger on such a large creature, and the Inuzuka clan would rush right by him, giving him just enough time to try to escape. The tree was large and roomy, and if it hadn't been for the sappy blood leaking from his left leg he wouldn't have been so worried about the large white dog bounding into the clearing that his hiding place helped ring.

The dog was massive, bigger even than most of the others chasing him. Its master, a boy just barely turning into a man rode on its back, a feral viciousness shining in his eyes, fueled by the adrenaline of a hunt. It stopped there, smelling that something was out of place. He held his breath, despite the fact that trees didn't breath. He had had close calls before, but not many. His job didn't usually require him to get close, and he could usually just teleport away from any sticky situations, but the cut on his leg was not his only injury, and even as he stood still in the oak he could feel the edges of his vision getting particularly blurry, and a small part of his brain whispered to him how easy it would be to just let it all go and slip into darkness. But it was a very small part, and his strong sense of self preservation kept it from getting bigger.

The dog was sniffing the ground now, wondering where the scent he had been tracking had gone. It shuffling nearer, and now the boy man slipped off from his perch and withdrew a weapon. The sounds of the rest of the pack were getting closer at an alarming rate, and he was forced to realize that the old oak would simply not suffice. And there were precious other places he could go. They had chased him so long and so _tactically _that he found his back almost pressed against the outside of Konoha's wall. He could even sense the chakra signatures of the gate's guards running along the wall to where the dogs were gathering.

Just then, another, darker colored dog crashed through the underbrush, barely a meter and half from where he was. It turned it's darkly intelligent eyes towards the tree, and he was sure that it could see him.

Suddenly he emerged out the tree, appearing before them as though from thin air in all his frightening glory. His black and red coat billowing out around as the wind whipped at it and he glared at them with amber eyes. He says the muscles in the animals' haunches tense as they prepared to leap, but before they could pounce, he sank into the floor. The ground though was not a safe place; in fact, it was dangerously open making him feel strangely agoraphobic. All it took was a simple ninjutsu or even a genjutsu and they could take him easily. But he wasn't looking for a hiding place; he had found an escape route. He traveled through the soil, just a matter of meters, despite the strain on his body. The wall was above him now, and he could feel, if not see, his vision growing dark. He pushed, _just_ a bit farther, and with a heave, he pulled himself out of the ground. He had managed to put the wall in between him and the Inuzukas, but it was only a temporary fix.

Konoha was crawling with leaf shinobi, on the lookout just for him, and he was inside of it. It wouldn't be long before those wretched dogs got here, too. Desperate for somewhere, anywhere to rest and hide he turned and stumbled down the deserted street. He could see cracks of soft yellow light between the tightly drawn curtains of all the houses he passed, but no civilian dared to venture outside, or even to peak. Not when there was something out there that had the ninjas thrown into such frenzy.

His sharp ears picked up the sound of yelling and the patter of feet against the roof overhead, and he dodged into an alley, flattened himself against the wall just in time for some callow chunins to run directly above him; no doubt too excited by the thought of a real emergency to actually be of much help.

Certain they were gone, he slipped out of his crevice, and a faint scent wafted into his nose. Turning sharply, he saw across the street, his safe haven. Making sure the coast was completely clear, he flashed across the road, and pressed into the door way of a small shop, whose name was obscured in the darkness. He froze, watching for a sign that someone had seen him. No one had. A tiny tendril of vine slipped through a crack in the door, and the sound of the latch rewarded him with a faint click. Pushing open the door just barely enough, he went inside.

The store was dark and empty, and standing just inside of it, a miniscule thought flashed through his brain. It was like he had stepped into the heaven he was never supposed to make it to. But even before that thought could be completed the sound of those _damn_ dogs tore down the street, jarring his insides. He glanced around the small flower shop hurriedly, unsure as to which plant would best suit his needs. But there was no time for that. He quickly locked the door once more, making it impossible to know that there had been a break in.

He turned to a rather large bonsai tree sitting on the counter, and without affording himself a second though, and merged into it. He huddled there, awake, for minutes, possible more, waiting to see just how secure his hiding place was. His shallow breathing stopped when the pack of drooling snarling dogs and bitches raced through the street just outside of the flower shop he resided in, but resumed once they had passed.

That was when his injuries began to make themselves heard. Cracked and crushed ribs moaned and the gash to his leg shrieked, though eventually it tired itself. His mind had the final say when it finally just shut down. Without fighting it, Zetsu let himself fall into unconsciousness.

For now, he was safe.

* * *

At least she knew where she was, she mused wryly to herself, unlike so many other times. Her pounding and dehydrated brain was still trying to make sense of exactly all the senses pouring into it at a speed that its sluggishness couldn't handle, but at least she knew where she was.

She could hear the unsteady grunting sound of the man sleeping beside her, snoring, but by no means in an endearing way. She could feel the sheets tangled in her legs, barely covering her, and certainly not doing it decently. She could see the dark back of her eye lids and had little desire to see anything else, knowing that light would only exacerbate her hangover. She could smell sweat and alcohol, two smells she had come to associate with sex, and not in a pleasant manner. And she could taste the vile taste of self loathing in her mouth; it was really the only thing that forced her out of the lumpy bed.

She sat up, hugging the dirty sheets to her chest and glanced over to be sure that the man next to her really was asleep, and sure enough, he was; snoring discordantly as he sprawled out across his side of the bed, lying on his stomach and his butt hanging out for all to see. Another bout of disgust bubbled in her throat, but she shoved it back down; there would be time for puking later. For now, she had to focus on how to get out of here with what shreds of dignity she still possessed.

She slipped out the bed, feeling it dip and lift as her weight shifted. Paranoid, she looked back again and wasn't surprised to see that he hadn't moved. She then proceeded to move around with the silence and stealth of the kunoichi she really was and tried to locate all her clothes. Everything always seemed to be thrown chaotically around, even though she never did it on purpose. She managed to find her pants and her shirt, but had had no luck with her underwear, and was very unhappy to see that her bra latch had been broken. It had been her favorite bra too.

She slipped on what parts of her outfit she _had_ managed to gather up and crept down the stairs. She wasn't at all too thrilled about leaving her panties up there somewhere, and there was a very strong nagging suspicion that they would show up when she less expected or wanted them, too. But there wasn't much she could do. So, praying she never set foot within the house again, she exited, and hurried down the street.

Once she felt safely away, she breathed in the crisp, slightly nippy, morning air and heaved a sigh. She knew it had to stop, she knew it well, and she thought that last night, might just have been the very last straw. She had self esteem issues, and she was well aware of it. It was because of that that she had a horrible habit of simply falling into bed with any guy that so much as said she was gorgeous and he liked her.

She groaned and rubbed at her blue eyes with heels of her palm. She felt like dirt. Stupid, slutty, scummy, dirt. She dug around in her pocket and after a moment of panic, found that her keys were still there and took them out. Konoha wasn't really a large village, and it wasn't hard to walk from one place to another, which could be both a blessing and a curse.

She made it to the comforting front of the Yamanaka flower store and used her key to let herself inside. She didn't flip over the "closed" sign to show "open" even though it was high time it was. She simply wasn't presentable. She slipped into the bathroom in the back and splashed her face with water. There was certainly no time for a full blown shower, but she needed to freshen up at least.

She gargled some water and combed through her hair with her fingers. It wasn't as effective as she would have liked, but it was something, and right now, she couldn't really ask for more. She opened the medicine cabinet and took out a few aspirin. The recommended dose for an adult female was two pills with a sip of water. She took five and dry swallowed them. Good to do, good to overdo right?

Taking a deep breath, she flashed herself a grin and a wink in the mirror and nodded her head, satisfied. She felt better; still slutty, and whore-like, and dirty, but definitely better. She strode out into the main part of her family's shop and flipped the sign, displaying to the world that the Yamanaka flower shop was ready for business.

Business was in fact, actually rather slow, but that didn't really surprise her. It had been for some time now. People just didn't flowers for anything recently. No one was too worried though, the rate of flower consummation was always fluctuating. She puttered about for a couple hours or so, helping the few customers that rang the small bell as they came in and tending to all the flowers, making sure they got just what they needed to flourish. She may not be very good at organizing her life or setting her priorities, but she sure could take care of flowers. And she paid special attention to the new plant they had just received.

What with business going down and all, the Yamanakas had thought it prudent to get a few other interesting items in stock. One of which was bonsai trees. They had only gotten one so far, and it wasn't for sale. They had to make sure they knew how to take care of it first, lest they buy a bunch and just kill them straight off the bat. This one was still alive and well, but it had gotten a bit bigger than it was supposed to, because no one knew exactly how to trim it, but it was still thriving.

"Hey Ino," a lazy voice greeted as the bell tingled to let her know that a new customer had arrived. Ino turned and threw her former teammate a grin, heaving another box of gardening supply shipments onto the counter to sort.

"Hey Shikamaru," she said as she pulled out all sorts of stuff from the large crate. "You got here just in time. Help me with the sorting." Shikamaru, used to her telling him what to do, rather than asking it of him, ambled over and began to divvying out all the little hand held shovels. "So what's the word over in ANBU?"

"Ino, you know I can't discuss that sort of thing," he replied, though only half heartedly. Shikamaru had become an ANBU strategist before any of the other rookie nine had even managed to become a jounin, and before Ino had even hit chunin. But they were still close friends, and Ino had become a sort of confident for all of Shikamaru's troubles as far as his job went; stuff he couldn't go to Temari with because she was from another village. Of course, Shikamaru still didn't like discussing it like it was gossip.

"Oh come on, Shika, even I heard the Inuzukas going crazy last night," she said in a hushed voice leaning down beside the bonsai tree. "Who were they chasing? You know the whole village has _got_ to be wondering."

"Well they can't know," Shikamaru said seriously. He was tired, too, having stayed up all night stressing over it all. Ino nodded in agreement, she wouldn't tell anybody. She wasn't the blabber mouth everyone thought her to be. Shikamaru remained focused on his shovels, which he was dividing by color now. He let out a sigh and looked up at her again. "It was an Akatsuki."

Ino's eyes widened considerably. An Akatsuki… She didn't know too much about them, but they always seemed like a source of anxiety to Shikamaru. She knew they were a dangerous terrorist group that hunted people like Naruto and were intent on taking over the world. Really, that was all she needed to know to figure they were bad news.

"What did it want," she asked intensely, the gardening supplies now forgotten on the counter. She fondled a branch of the small tree beside her absentmindedly. Shikamaru shrugged, looked up from his work as well. Ino could see how tired he was by his bleary eyes.

"We don't know. We didn't catch it. It's so troublesome."

"You didn't catch it," Ino repeated, freezing. Shikamaru shook his head slowly. Ino didn't know what to make of that. She was worried, that was certain, but she didn't know how worried she should be. The Akatsuki had always seemed like a distant danger. She wasn't sure whether she should be freaking out, or just let it sit in her gut. "So, what do we do?"

"_We_ don't do anything," Shikamaru replied, finishing up and slouching lazily onto a stool. "You go about your business and you keep her eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Kiba saw it, and managed to tell us what he thought it looked like, but it's so strange that it makes me think it was a disguise or something."

"What did Kiba say it looked like," Ino asked as she spritzed cool water from a spray bottle onto the bonsai.

"It's completely bizarre and troublesome," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. "He said it was split down the middle, one side white, and one side black. And that its entire head was encased in some sort of plant that looked, and I quote, like this." Shikamaru raised his hands and brought them together like jaws. "He also says it could turn into trees and melt into the ground…"

"You don't believe him, huh," Ino said knowingly, moving on to take care of other delicate flowers. Shikamaru swiveled in his chair to follow her.

"Do you?"

"No, not really," she admitted. Shikamaru nodded as though to say, that's what I thought. She worked in silence for a little while longer, letting Shikamaru look back on last night's events and try a bit more to come to some genius conclusion like he always did.

"I think it had something to do with Mitarashi Anko and Uchiha Sasuke, they're the ones that reported strange things and that they were being followed," he mused, almost to himself. Ino cocked her head at him and frowned. She went to the sink and filled up the water bottle again.

"That must mean it has something to do with Orochimaru or the Sound then," she said, pleased with herself for coming up with something so plausible. Shikamaru only grunted and nodded in agreement. He thought for a bit longer before letting out a frustrated sigh and shaking his head.

"I'll think about this some other time, it's too troublesome," he muttered bitterly. Then he looked up to regard Ino. "And where were you that you heard the Inuzuka clan?"

"Well, the whole village heard it, I'm sure," she replied, tossing her hair and dodging the question. Shikamaru gave her a look that told her not to bother. He wanted to the truth, and she gave it to him by way of a sheepish look. Of course he could have figured it out. He shook his head in disappointment, making Ino bite her lip.

"Ino, you can do better and you know it," he said, an edge of frustration cutting through his lazy drawl. "Why do you do this, it doesn't make you happy." Ino shook her head, toeing at the ground with her shoe.

"I know, I know," she said with a sigh. Shikamaru stared at her awhile longer; his droopy eyed stare intense, and making her squirm. She glanced back up at him, waiting for him to say something. The longer she waited for him to speak though, the more she dreaded what he was going to say.

"I want you to make me a promise, Ino," he said suddenly. The words rung threateningly in her ears, making her want to say no. But she knew that any promise Shikamaru made her make would only be for her benefit, so cautiously, she nodded.

"Okay, I will."

"I want you to promise that you won't sleep with another man, until you are _sure_ that he is _the one_," he said, watching her closely for her reaction. She jerked her head up at to look at him in surprise. Her instant reaction was to say _hell no, that was ridiculous_, but she held her tongue.

It was a lot for him to ask, and presumptuous of him as well. She was offended at first, but she thought about it. The idea was almost tempting. He really wanted her to do this, too, and the more she thought about it, the more, she agreed.

It wouldn't be easy for her, but it would be the best. She chewed on her lip and watched the ground, then, slowly, she nodded. Her nodding got slightly faster, until she was suddenly looking up at him, nodding vigorously. "Okay, I promise. I'll do it." She was surprised to hear herself say it, but pleased at the same time.

A steady smile spread of Shikamaru's face. "Thanks Ino, for not being troublesome for once." Ino giggled at his old joke and nodded. Shikamaru nodded back, his smile slowly going away to be replaced by a grim line. With a tired groan, he got up from his stool and stretched lazily. "I have to get going."

"Yeah, probably. Go get some rest, Shika, you look exhausted," she said putting a hand on his shoulder and steering him towards the door. He was a genius, but even he couldn't think his best so drained. "Don't you dare go straight back to head quarters." Shikamaru just gave her a smile, making her think that he was indeed heading straight back to head quarters.

"Bye, Ino," he called over his shoulder, as he walked away raising a hand in farewell and slouching down the street. Ino waved good bye and went back into her flower, shop, slumping against her counter. An Akatsuki, on the loose. That actually worried her more than the promise did. What could it possibly want with Anko and Sasuke and Orochimaru? She let out a breath of air and fondled a miniature leaf on what was become her favorite plant. It didn't really concern her though she supposed. Suddenly, she frowned as she looked closer at the plant she handled.

Her bonsai tree looked somewhat… different…

* * *

A/N Soooo, what'd you think. I really need to know. I think I'll continue this or a couple of chapters and if I get positive feed back then I'll continue it. If no ones seems that interested then I'll be very disappointed and I'll delete it and I'll start from scratch once more.

It's been awhile since I've written much of anything, so please please please please review, they're vital to my survival, and I greatly appreciate them. I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and I hope to see you next time. :D

~Yuki


	2. Sap and Salve

A/N okay, thank you guys so much for all your reviews. I love 'em, and I love you guys, too. Just to clear some things up real fast.

1) Sasuke has returned, I'll tell you how and why later in the story

2) "_white side of Zetsu talking"_  
"**black side of Zetsu talking**"  
_white side of Zetsu thinking  
_**black side of Zetsu thinking**

3) And last thing, since I found it impossible to figure out is Zetsu refers to himself as "I" or "We" I decided to go with "We". OH AND, somehow who knows way more about Zetsu than I do has informed me that Zetsu is actually 56.

Now, please enjoy the story.

* * *

Ino considered herself an amazing botanist. It wasn't the most modest thought, but the Yamanaka flower shop was undeniably the best in Konoha, and she was the one that ran it, generally. Of course, her parent's owned it, and they helped, but it was she that took the most care of all the flowers.

If someone had to learn how to take care of some sort of plant, no matter how delicate it was, she could tell them how to do so, so that the thing flourished. Or, if they needed to arrange a wedding bouquet or a "get well soon" one, she was the girl. And that was why, when she looked at her brand new bonsai plant to see that it was leaking sap and had bruised leaves, she was not only disappointed, but very angry.

"What happened to you," she gasped, dipping her finger tip into the sweet smelling sap and giving it a sniff. She frowned and rubbed it around on the pads of her fingers. There was a gash in the small trunk, as though someone had slashed it with a knife. "If some idiot was trying to trim you that way..." she trailed off, leaving the threat to some anonymous person hanging.

She wiped the sap from her hands with a paper towel, and then did the same for the tree, cleaning away the crusting syrup and tossing the cloth into a garbage can. She wasn't sure exactly what to do with the cut, figuring it would eventually just heal into some unsightly knob. It was a good thing this one wasn't for sale. And as for the bruised leaves, she could only assume it had been the same unknown person who had mutilated the trunk. She sighed and moved the tree to behind the counter, a somewhat safer place.

"I'll deal with you later," she said, glancing at the clock and finding it to be about an hour past noon; high time she got going. She had already arranged to only work part time today. She had to meet Sakura for medical training. She turned over the "closed" sign and returned to the back room, digging around for the spare set of clothes she always kept stashed.

She took off her clothes and rubbed down with a damp towel. There was still no time for a real shower, but that didn't keep her from feeling like a grimy mess. She slipped on her clothes and brushed her teeth with her finger. Her hair still had hidden knots, and her teeth still felt caked in plaque. But what else was there to do?

She sighed and went back into the main part of the shop. All the flowers looked fresh and well, except for her droopy new tree, and she exited the shop; being sure to lock it securely behind her. She set off at a brisk pace, walking down the street of her familiar village. She loved this village, she really did. But she had no idea how to do anything else. It wasn't like she ever had anything else to compare it to. She had taken an oath as a shinobi to give her life to protect this village. But even now, she wasn't sure exactly what she was protecting. She ran her hands through her hair with a sigh. Those were stupid thoughts, just stupid.

It was just because she was getting ready to see Sakura. She hated spending time with Sakura. Sure they used to be best friends, and they weren't rivals anymore, but that was because Sakura felt that she had won, and Ino couldn't help but feel the same. She couldn't compare to Sakura anymore. She had even grown into her giant forehead. Ino had nothing on her. And Sakura may not realize it, but she never let Ino forget it.

Coming up to the hospital, Ino gathered up her arrogance and pushed open the door; walking in like she owned the place. She flashed a smile to the pimply receptionist and strode down the hallways confidently. Sakura even had an office now, and while it obviously wasn't as amazing as Godaime Tsunade's it was a pretty nice set up. Again, every time Ino walked into it she was reminded of her lower status. Despite the fact that she had started out so much better than the rosette girl. When had her life deteriorated so much?

Sucking up her pride like she had gotten good at doing, Ino rapped her knuckles against the wood of the door. She stood in the hallway for a moment, feeling like a bit of an idiot, waiting for someone to come out of a seemingly empty room. But none the less, she knocked again. This time she was rewarded with the sound of Sakura's melodic if a bit stressed sounding voice.

"Come on in, Ino!"

"Hey, forehead girl," Ino said by way of greeting as she let herself in. The room was meticulously clean and neat. She figured it was a habit one developed after being the messy current Hokage's assistant. There were however a few papers stacked nicely in front of the chair that sat behind Sakura's desk that looked rather important. She frowned at them. She recognized them, even though she hadn't received any in an embarrassingly long time. "Are you going on a mission?"

"Yeah actually, I am," Sakura replied. She was bustling about busily, throwing extra medicines and kunai knives into a small pack. Ino felt strangely out of place in a room thick with the before mission buzz. "I'm heading down to the Mist village for a while. There's some sort of epidemic going on. Nothing too big, but they don't want it to turn into something."

"Things have been pretty peaceful recently, I guess Konoha could spare a few medics here and there," Ino agreed, flopping down into the chair across from her former best friend's desk. She watched her run about in what was as close to a brooding silence as the blonde could get. There was a little something nagging as her insides, and she couldn't help but voice it. "Do you want me to come, too? I'm sure I could lend a hand."

"Oh no, it's fine. We don't need you," Sakura replied dismissively, not even pausing to look up at her or consider the offer. Ino didn't say anything. It was fine. They didn't need her. "The hospital's been pretty slow, too. Ninjas just haven't been getting hurt recently. I wonder if they're being more careful like we told them to."

"Ha, like that'll ever happen," Ino said, letting out a forced bark of a fake laugh. Sakura laughed along with her and nodded empathetically. After getting bored of watching her pack for her glamorous mission Ino began wondering if she could leave yet and studying her nails. They had a bit of dirt in them from digging around in her flowers and trying to heal her little tree. "So, is that all you had to say for today?"

"Well, pretty much, yeah," Sakura said, after all, it wasn't like Ino didn't anything important with her time; it was there for Sakura's wasting. Ino made to stand up. "Just that I was leaving. You can spend more time at the hospital if you want, but they shouldn't need you too bad here either." No, they were plenty stocked, they wouldn't need her either. "So basically, I just want to tell you, to keep working hard on your jutsus." Ino nodded. "And Ino, one more thing."

Already half way to the door, the blonde glanced back around to see what exactly was so important that Sakura just had to bring it up. She had stopped in her packing and was giving Ino her full attention for the first time today. Her eyes were intense and she had a ghost of a smile on her face. Ino turned her head slightly to regard her warily. "What is it, forehead girl?"

"I wanted to tell you that you're doing really good," she said, her tone heartfelt. Ino paused in her endeavor to the door and truly faced her teacher. "I think you have real potential as a medic. You're a good shinobi Ino-pig." Ino felt a wide smile stretch across her face, and not one of her fake ones either. She opened her mouth to say thank-you, but Sakura cut her off. "Now get on out of here, I'm busy."

The brusque farewell would usually grate on Ino's nerves, but this time, she let it go, and left quietly.

* * *

It was a small plant, but still roomy somehow. Not as luxurious as the oak he had taken refuge in before, but definitely an improvement from other plants he'd infested. He was very comfortable. With an inaudible sigh, Zetsu let himself relax in the small branches, embracing the silence and the feel of being safe from those wretched dogs.

**As Sasori sits around comfortably waiting for us to do all the work**_,_ he suddenly thought bitterly, twisting around, feeling uncomfortable in his bad mood. Sasori was the one that had suggested this mission in the first place. Once they had failed _again_ in their attempt to capture the Kyuubi. They had needed something to regain and strengthen their power.

_We are the logical choice for this mission. Anyone else would botch it beyond repair_, he pointed out. He still was not sure if his efforts would prove fruitful or not anyway. Sasori may hold Orochimaru in high regards, but Zetsu did not. Anyone, who left and betrayed the Akatsuki, was not to be respected.

**It's a waste of our bloody time**, he muttered, shaking off one of his leaves.

_No, Mitarashi Anko was a waste of our time. Itachi's little brother has proven interesting._ The wheels of his mind were turning rapidly, and he could tell at a glance that Sasuke might be just what Sasori had in mind. He had been taught a lot by the Snake Sannin, and his loyalty to his village was questionable at best. Anko however would die for her village, and she had not received the special treatment that the youngest Uchiha had. She was of no value.

**So we've got what we needed, haven't we? Let's go back already, we're not gonna be able to hide here forever**, he thought. But no, he couldn't leave just yet. He had watched both of Orochimaru's former students, just as Sasori had requested he do, and he had found the info they needed. But he had to wait for further orders from Pein.

_No! We can't leave yet. Just_ try_ to be patient_, he finally snapped. He was done thinking about the little Uchiha, and the traitor Orochimaru, and the arrogant Sasori. Anko was useless, Sasuke had potential to be useful, and Zetsu had to stay in the village until he received further instructions.

**Or better information**, he mused. That Shikamaru fellow was ANBU, a very convenient man for him to get close to, and he seemed to be good friends with the girl that worked at this little shop. He had known his way around easily as well, he must come here often.

_How perfect, _he thought. An ANBU source was better than Zetsu had hoped when he had arrived in Konoha. If he could pull it off, then he could have Konoha's deepest secrets put on a billboard. _But this plant just won't do._ He looked around to find a less conspicuous hiding place. The blue eyed girl seemed very intent on this bonsai, and while he was confident that he was stealthy enough to not be noticed, it made him uncomfortable. There was a pot of flowers on the edge of the counter, still close enough to hear everything being said, but not as front and center as his current one.

**Those one's sell all the time, do we want to be picked and sold and end up sitting next to some comatose patient in the hospital that's never going to wake up,** he asked pointedly, making Zetsu want to frown. Obviously, that wasn't on the top of his list. But there weren't any other plants that had the same advantages. Perhaps he really should just stay here. Besides, his injuries were no better than last night. He wouldn't be able to make a very smooth transition.

_Too late_, he whispered suddenly. With the small tinkle of a bell, the blond haired Yamanaka strode back into the shop, absentmindedly flipping the sign to show "open." She had a slight spring in her step, compared to when she had walked out with her feet dragging and her eyes dull. She looked much happier. She tossed her keys on to a stool and walked around it to grab the tray he sat in.

He was lurched around uncomfortably as he was lifted up and sat down in the very center of the counter, making him wince at the rough treatment of his battered body. He suddenly felt very at the mercy of this most likely flaky teenage girl. From now on, he wanted to stick with big plants. No more little trees.

"Okay, listen up you," the girl said seriously, while digging around in the messy drawers. "You're my brand new plant, and Mom and Dad won't be real happy if you die on me." She frowned then and suddenly disappeared under the counter. All that could be heard were scuffling and grunts until she finally she reemerged holding a small container. She opened it up and took a whiff. "Ugh."

She put the stuff to the side and turned her attention back to the bonsai. She picked up the leaf he had shaken off before. "You're leaves are falling off, too? Great." She twirled said leaf around in her fingers, watching the way the light hit it. Then she blew it off to some distant of the corner to be swept up when she felt like it. With a sigh, she heaved herself up to sit on the surface of the counter and crossed her legs lazily.

"You know, I was told I was a good medic today," she began in a conversational tone. Zetsu could only peer up at her in confusion, with a little suspicion mixed in. Surely she didn't realize she was talking to a real person. "Sakura even said it, and she's usually such a bitch." She picked him up again and put him on her lap. "Though I guess she doesn't really try to be. I mean, we're still friends and all. Sort of."

She drifted off there, and her face drooped a bit. She sighed again, a depressed little noise, and picked back up the foul smelling container. She opened it up and poked at it with the tip of her finger. The curl of her lip said it all; it was a nasty concoction. Zetsu wasn't eager to have that smeared all over his trunk, especially since he was fairly certain it wouldn't work. His injuries were of the human sort, they just looked different on a plant.

Ino had to resist the urge to gag as she messed around with the salve. Hinata was actually the one who had made it. The Hyuuga girl had taken a liking to plants, too, once Ino had showed her how wonderful they could be. She hadn't yet reached the level of proficiency Ino had, but she was catching up remarkably fast. And Ino was torn between feeling very proud, and very miffed. But she had said that this goop worked wonders on damaged plants, and Ino was yet to try it.

She dipped a bit of it out onto her finger and looked down at the tree resting on her thighs. She looked from it to the medicine and back again, poor innocent thing. She wiped away the crusty sap that had hardened to the bark. "Sorry about this," she muttered, and then applied the salve to the gash in the trunk. She smeared it around, layering it generously; the more the merrier. When satisfied, she tried to flick her fingers and get it all to come off, with no such luck. Wrinkling her nose she wiped the remnants on her shorts.

She watched the stuff for awhile, as though she expected it to start fizzing and bubbling and working instantly. Of course, it didn't. It was rather anticlimactic. Slowly, her mind drifted away from the boring medicine, making room for stress and anxiety. She had run into Shikamaru on the way back from the hospital. He obviously hadn't gone home like she had told him, too. He did however, have more information on the Akatsuki that the Inuzukas had neglected to tell him before. Apparently, they had lost it somewhere around her street. This filled Ino with a sense of dread that even now refused to go away. There were a lot of young children living on her street. What if one of them had been hurt? The thought chilled her. She grunted suddenly, shaking her head. They hadn't been hurt, that was what was important. She looked back down at her immobile tree.

"Do you know, I really feel like that's just not going to work," she mumbled referring to the white gook she had put on it. This was what happened when one was so bored for so long. They started obsessing over these things. She looked at her hands curiously, and gathered her power into them. "I wonder if I just…" Her palms and finger tips began to glow green. "This really shouldn't work, but Sakura did say to practice my jutsu."

Ino concentrated on focusing her chakra. Her eye brows furrowed and she stared hard at them, trying to will the chakra to mold. Slowly, she reached out and pinched a bruised leaf gently between her emerald forefinger and thumb. She poured just a tad of her chakra into it, not wanting to overload it and have it shrivel up and die right there. Just as slowly, she let it go and examined her work.

The leaf was green, vibrantly so, and it shone with a healthy glossiness. Ino's eyes widened in surprise and admiration. She hadn't actually counted on success. Intrigued, she grabbed new leaf, pumping more chakra into it, as though it were a hurt finger. Bringing her fingers away, she was pleased to see the same results.

"You're so lucky you have me," she gloated, grinning smugly at the inanimate object. "You need me." Unlike so many other things. Her lips tugged down into a subconscious frown. Unlike the Mist village, unlike the hospital. "Unlike this whole damn village." Ino felt the snarled words bubble unbidden out of her mouth. She clamped her lips shut tight. She hadn't really meant to say that. Of course they needed her, every shinobi was needed. She massaged her temples, closing her eyes for a few second. "Well, either way," she continued in a subdued voice. "What would you do without me?"

Now though, it was time for that big gash on the side. She was still curious about how it had gotten there, but she supposed it didn't really matter. Clearing away Hinata's goop with the side of her pinkie, Ino got a better look at it. It wasn't quite down to the core of the tree, so it would heal, but it wouldn't heal nicely. She pressed her green palm to the side of the trunk. It was different trying to heal a plant than it was a human or something with blood and organs. She closed her eyes, trying to visualize the cut sealing seamlessly beneath her hand. She felt it begin to knit against her skin, the two edges coming together. That felt right, but something else felt odd. She screwed up her face, trying to figure out what was niggling at her, than she realized.

The chakra leaking out of the half healed cut was all wrong; it was so… big…

A cold fist grabbed Ino's heart, making it skip a beat. The flow of chakra to the bonsai was suddenly cut off as she lost control of it, sending it spinning madly through her system. She forced herself to stay still, trying hard not to show that she had figured out what was wrong. She took deep breathes, opening her eyes slowly, and pulling her hands away carefully, as though she had been handling a bomb.

_"We didn't catch it."_

_"He also says it can turn into trees…"_

_"They lost it somewhere around your street."_

Shikamaru's voice floated through her head, making her grow even colder with every word. They tree had been injured after that night, too. It was all so cohesive, it fit so perfectly. She turned around slowly, and grabbed a small towel behind her. She wiped her hands of dirt and salve calmly, pretending that nothing was wrong. But she knew that her tense back was obvious enough.

But could the Akatsuki see as a plant? Could it hear her? And more importantly, could she get to that door and out into the street before it turned back into whatever it was and killed her? She didn't have time to think about it. She had to get out of here as quickly as possible, get to the Hokage, and tell as many people as she could on the way there.

She could feel the blood coursing through her throat, making it just slightly hard to breathe, and she could hear it pounding in her ears. She had to go. Taking another deep breath to calm her nerves she tensed her muscles and sprang suddenly for the door. She flew towards it, and managed to run at least two steps before being pulled up short.

"_Now, now, now, where do you think you're going?_" Ino froze, not daring to move a muscle. The cold bite of metal dug into the flesh on her neck, making her blood freeze in her veins. She hardly dared to breathe, images of her jugular spraying out across the room swirling through her head. She swallowed the lump in her throat and the edges of her vision got hazy in her fear. Then another chilling voice joined the first.

"**After all, what would we do without you?**"

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A/N well, there you have. The second chapter. I can't wait 'til I get my new laptop and can really start pumping these out. But, I sincerely hope you liked it, and I want to say thank you again to all of you awesome peopel who reviewed, and I hope you do so again, along with everyone else who has made it this far.

please please please review and I hope to see you all next time.

~Yuki


	3. Beef and Keys

A/N okay, I didn't make good on my deadline of updating before sping break ended, but there is a very good reason for that, and this time it's not laziness. Reason: this chapter is a monstrocity. It looks like I'm up to my old tricks of long chapters. Oh well, I hope you guys appreciate it. Now, while there's probably a bunch of things here I need to say, and will probably regret not saying them now, its after midnight here, and I'm simply too tired. So for now

please enjoy.

* * *

Ino felt her heart drop like a stone in a lake, so smoothly it barely left a ripple. Time seemed as frozen as she, not daring to twitch as the whisper of a blade grazed her skin. Her breath came in evenly, but shallow, not even appearing as calm. Her heart began to shiver in panic, but the rest of her didn't even do that.

"_Now, be so kind as to _not_ move, please_," whispered a voice. It was smooth, like warm blood flowing over silk.

"**Or I'll cut your little head off**," the second was quick to add. Ino felt her throat tighten fearfully. This accent was nothing like the other; it was rough and abrasive, like scraping against the bark of a tree. But underneath the two, there seemed a level of similarity, as though they were different facets of the same voice. As she let out a shuddering breath, in attempt to get more oxygen into her dizzy head, she felt the grip tighten on her arms, and the kunai slice into the first layer of skin.

The hand holding her wrists firmly behind her back was calloused and lean; a typical shinobi's appendage. And the arms contorting her own were obviously strong, but the chest her back was pressed against was not muscular. In fact, it was lumpy, and somewhat soft, thoroughly confusing her. But the cold metal left no room for confusion, and she barely repressed a small noise of fear as a drop of blood slid over her collar bone.

"_We can't have you running off to the Hokage, you understand_," the soft voice continued. "_Now, if you'd be so kind-"_

"**Shut up**." There was a moment of silence as Ino and the other voice tried to understand why the other had been so rudely shushed. She heard an intake of breath as the one was about to retort, but the cruel voice cut him off before he began. "**I hear something. Someone's coming**." Ino felt the blade leave her throat as the point migrated downwards to dig into her spine.

"_Get rid of them quickly_," the first voice hissed in her ear, raising goose bumps as curiously cold breath caressed her skin. Now that her jugular was in no immediate danger, Ino dared to nod her affirmative. Then slowly, she turned her head to try to catch a glimpse of the missing nin, but suddenly, the second voice stopped her, snarling in the same ear his friend had hissed in just moments ago.

"**And don't you dare turn around**."

Ino's head snapped forward like a rubber band. Soon, she felt the tip of the weapon leave her back. She fingered the spot it had assaulted, feeling warmth and drawing back the digits to see red on them. Taking in a deep breath, she turned to see only a battered bonsai tree sitting innocently on the counter, looking lonely and dejected. If it hadn't been for the blood on her fingers and neck, she could almost pretend it had all been a figment of her depressed imagination. But there _was_ blood on her fingers and neck, and right now, she had to worry about someone else.

She hurried to the sink behind the counter and grabbed a paper towel. She wet it and quickly wiped away the crimson liquid that had dripped down her clavicle. She slid a green finger over her small cut, healing it seamlessly. It was easiest to heal yourself more than anything else. She did the same to her back, glad for her midriff baring outfit as it resulted in no stained fabric. No sooner though had she hidden the evidence of her attack than the faint jingle of bells could be heard around the shop and Ino turned to see who her unlucky visitor happened to be.

"Hina-chan," she exclaimed, her voice more panicked than cheery, but luckily, the Hyuuga heiress didn't seem to notice. Ino's first thought had been to tip off whoever the customer was and try to get them to help her. But she had known that it would be fruitless. That was why she had washed away her blood. That Akatsuki was too fast for them to get out; she would only put the other person in danger.

But now it was Hinata, and Hinata knew her almost as well as Shikamaru. She didn't know if she could be able to hide her panic from her; and now the stakes were even higher. If something happened to Hinata because of her own stupidity, she doubted she would be able to forgive herself. She didn't even think she would deserve the forgiveness anyway.

"Hello, Ino-chan," Hinata replied shyly. She was shy yes, but her stutter had gone. Ino had had a hand in that, of course. She had forced the purple haired girl to see how beautiful and wonderful she really was and had been glad to see her finally start to blossom. Hinata made her way over to the counter Ino stood behind. "How was your day?"

"Oh… well." Ino felt herself stumbling and at a loss for words. Her original plan of just getting the customer out as quickly as possible had suddenly just been flung down the drain. Hinata was here just to chat, and Ino had no way to brush her off. Normally, she would be glad to see her friend, and if she suddenly started acting cold and indifferent, Hinata would know something was wrong. "It hasn't been too bad, I suppose. But not great."

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that," Hinata said, putting a few grocery bags down. Her tone was sincere, like always and Ino knew she meant it. Hinata meant everything she said.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Ino assured her, waving it off like she usually would. "Tell me about your day. You run into Naruto at all, hm," she asked, wiggling her eye brows suggestively, and electing an embarrassed blush. But her face hadn't turned the deep tomato red Ino had been expecting, and that sent the devious wheels turning in her mind.

"No! I didn't see _anybody_ I knew," she defended herself quickly. Ino just gave her an indulgent smirk and nodded knowingly. Hinata pouted, and decided the drop the subject. "But my day's been good so far, I guess." Abruptly, Hinata changed topics as she spotted the little bonsai on her left and the patch of salve that still remained on the trunk. "Oh, you used my medicine! Has it worked so far?"

"Um," Ino gasped, and groped around for an answer in her icy mind. She had to resist the urge to yank Hinata away from the falsely innocuous plant. As she cast around for an answer, she finally settled on the truth. "N-no, not really, but I just put it on today."

"Hm, you should see some sort of improvement by now though," Hinata insisted. She leaned her face so close that some of the longer branches brushed her forehead, pushing back long locks of beautiful deep lavender. In all honesty, Hinata's looks made Ino feel plain in comparison. But that wasn't on the blondes mind right then. Ino jumped and made to grab the girl's shoulder to pull her back as far as possible, but she had to restrain herself. The Akatsuki wouldn't do anything surely. He was almost just as much a prisoner in this situation as she was. And as long as Hinata didn't get _too_ close, or activate her Byakugan, everything should be alright, she told herself. "Ah, yes. See, look." Hinata was pointing at the gash, partially healed by Ino's medical chakra. "It's worked a little bit."

"Huh," Ino exclaimed, peering at the tree as though she hadn't noticed before. Meanwhile, she struggled to think of a topic to distract the heiress from the little tree. There had to be something. Naruto was out of the question since Hinata would just feign even more interest to get away from the subject. Suddenly, Hinata did something that made Ino's stomach drop to her toes.

"It's such an adorable thing. So small," she said, letting out a giggle. She lifted the tray it sat in and played with the leaves with one of her fingers. "Are you going to sell it? I'll buy it if you are."

"N-no! It's not for sale," Ino burst out. She stared at the bonsai as though expecting it to spontaneously combust in her friend's hands. A small part of her brain couldn't help but wryly comment on how she was so terrified of something that seemed so simple and harmless. "Please, can you put it down? It's our first bonsai and I worry that it may be fragile."

"Oh course, I'm sorry," Hinata apologized quickly, setting the plant down and retreating to what Ino deemed a safe distance. The blonde couldn't stop the sigh of relief; though she still wanted to steer the conversation into safer waters. As Ino thought of this, Hinata had perched herself on a stool and was fiddling with her fingers in a way normally only associated with Naruto. But she didn't seem to be thinking of Naruto, her face was the wrong color for that. Seeing her opportunity, Ino sprang on it.

"Now," she began mischievously. Hinata looked up at her suspiciously. "I know you didn't come down here just to talk about our days. What's on your mind Hina-chan?" When the Hyuuga bit her lip and looked down at the ground, not yet ready to answer, Ino began to worry that maybe she had touched on something more dramatic and deeper than she cared to delve into at the moment. Particularly when there was a dangerous missing nin sitting peacefully at her elbow.

"It's Neji," she finally murmured, looking up at Ino with a guilty sort of look in her eyes. If it was what the blonde suspected it to be, than she had definitely jumped into something too deep for her right now. Ino swallowed and opened her mouth in a last ditch effort to defy the signs.

"Did he hurt you?" For the first time ever, Ino prayed the answer was yes.

"No," Hinata replied, making Ino's heart tie itself into a knot. The heiress chewed on her lip for a moment, before actually _smiling_ up at her. A small smile, but a smile none the less. "I think I… care for him." Ino bit back her sharp retort of 'of course you care for him, he's your cousin.' She knew she wasn't talking about that sort of caring. "I think about him so much more than Naruto now. He's _always_ on my mind…" Ino sighed.

"Oh, Hinata-"

"Is it wrong," Hinata unexpectedly cried out, putting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her palms. "Is it wrong that I think about him like this? I mean, he's my cousin, but still…"

"No, Hinata," Ino found herself crooning, putting a hand on the distraught girl's shoulder. "I don't think it's wrong. I think it's good you've gotten over Naruto, that bone head. And it's time that you turn your attentions to someone who may really deserve it." Even if he is your cousin, she continued in her mind. But of course, she didn't dare utter it out loud. After all, Neji was a good man, and if he could make Hinata happy, who was she to judge?

"Thank you, Ino," Hinata said, smiling up at her, her pearly eyes more watery than usual. "You're a good friend." Ino could practically feel her heart melt and she enveloped the smaller girl in a hug. Normally, Ino would continue their conversation; talking about Neji and why she liked him, analyzing her exact feelings so that Hinata could walk away with a plan. But this was not a normal circumstance.

"You know what I think you should do right now, though," Ino asked letting the girl go and retreating back to her side of the counter.

"What?"

"I think you should go home and think on this," she replied. "Just for a little bit longer, and then come back another day for lunch and we'll _really_ talk about it. How's that sound?"

"Good," Hinata agreed, standing up. She scrubbed at her face, getting rid of any remaining tear streaks or discoloration. "Thanks again, Ino. I hope your day goes better than it has so far. I'll see you later." Ino smiled and nodded.

"Bye Hina-chan, see you tomorrow." Ino watched her friend wave good bye and disappear out the door, as though she were watching a life raft float away, leaving her alone in a stormy sea. She didn't turn around. She just waited for the feel of cold metal against her now clammy skin. She wondered briefly why she didn't run when Hinata had reached the door. She may have been able to push to the Hyuuga and herself out and into the open before the Akatsuki could get them. It was a risk, but one that may have been well worth taking.

But she hadn't, and even now, she wondered: why?

"_That took longer than I wanted_," whispered the voice from behind her, the tell tale bite of metal accompanying it. Ino just nodded and fixed her eyes on the floor, watched a spider make its way into a dark corner.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, not feeling very sorry at all, but the fact that she had said it, spoke volumes. Subdued, she was subdued. There was a small part of her, locked away in a cage somewhere dark with the key missing, that was screaming at her and rattling the bars. It was screaming for her to struggle, disobey, argue. It screamed at her to fucking fight back. Where was her spark?

"**Close the shop. I don't want any more visitors**," he ordered. Ino nodded again. The press of the kunai to her skin reminded her of exactly where her spark was; it was wisely biding its time, or so she told herself. In any event, struggling, disobeying, or arguing were all out of the question. Though to use her head and start trying to figure a way out of this was not. But Ino did as she was told and started making her way to the door. As she took a step forward, she felt the presence of the kunai leave her back, not following her. She knew though, that if she were to do anything he hadn't asked for, it would be sent flying through the air and impale her where she stood.

As she arrived at the front of the shop, she stole a moment to gaze out the windows. She silently begged and pleaded with everyone who passed to please turn around and just glance in the window and see the trouble she was in. But of course, no one did; no one ever did. Slowly, she flipped back the little wooden sign for the fourth time that day. Again, the shop was closed. She drew what drapes there were then retreated back into the shop, away from prying eyes and would be rescuers. Again the little voice screamed at her. 'You don't _need_ a rescuer, you're a kunoichi damn it, start acting like one.' But it was fading long before it made an impression.

"_The back room, there are still too many windows around here_," the first voice said. Ino obeyed without question, taking one last look at the windows. Her heart was beating fast now, fearful for itself rather than for Hinata. She swallowed her excess saliva, feeling her mouth go dry and shuffled into the back room, watching her feet, too afraid to see the missing-nin. She didn't want to see him really, not with Kiba's description still clear in her mind.

"**I like this better**," the second voice said as he followed her into the spacious and secluded room. She was confused, so confused. There were two voices, but everything else pointed to one person. One set of limping footsteps, sounding as though one of the legs was being favored; one mouth whispering in her ear. Finally, frustrated, she turned around to face him. She leaned her lower back against a table, and planted her palms on the surface, on either side of her hips. Then she tilted her head up and glared at him challengingly. Whatever he was going to do to her was already made up in his mind and letting out her fire now would put her in no worse a situation.

The challenging fire died in her eyes at the sight of him.

Vaguely human, only vaguely. Never had Ino laid eyes on something so _abnormal_. Not disfigured, not deformed, just abnormal. In fact, from what she could see of his face, collar bone and shoulders, he had formed just fine. But his coloring was nothing short of off.

A line, straighter than Ino had thought nature was capable of ran directly down the center of him, dividing him in half. One side was as white as freshly cooked rice, the other darker than even Sasuke's eyes. His own eyes were pupil-less, reminding her of a Hyuuga, but they glowed with an amber light. Ino felt herself almost captivated by them. They lacked the intense cruelty she had expected to see. However, that in itself frightened her. His hair was green and tousled but short in a very practical way. Though of course, Ino was no stranger to foreign hair colors, what with a former best friend with pink and a former long time crush with blue black.

But though all of these strange attributes were more than enough to draw the eye, they weren't what had killed her challenging expression. An image of Shikamaru bringing his hands together like jaws flashed through her mind. _"He has a plant on his head that looks, and I quote, like this."_ A Venus flytrap. Ino had been fascinated by them when she was younger, and all the botanist information stored in her brain poured out unbidden before her mind's eye. Kingdom-plantae; order-caryophyllales; family-droseraceae; genus-dionaea. Height-12 cm; weight-2.2 kg; preferred lighting- partial shade. _Carnivorous_.

Ino could only stare, wide eyed and slack jawed at this vaguely human creature before her.

"_They all react that way_," he muttered, and Ino got the distinct impression that it was his white half that had muttered the complaint. She wondered, was it two men with one body, or one man with two sides? To Ino, it seemed like an important distinction to make clear.

"**Shut your mouth**," he growled. She did so with a snap, feeling a little ashamed of staring actually. Still feeling in shock, she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes briefly. She had to calm down and look at this objectively.

"Who-" Ino cut off as her voice caught in her dry throat. She licked her lips and tried again, trying not to show her fear. "Who are you?"

Zetsu debated over how to answer this question. It wasn't really as straight forward as it sounded. He could give her his name, and that might suffice. But by asking who he was she was also asking of his intentions, where he was from, who he worked her. She already knew the answer to who he worked for, and surely that was all she needed to know. So what was the point of her question?

"_That is irrelevant_," he replied. He watched the girl's lips pull down in a frown. She seemed to be thinking hard, and his being coy hadn't helped her. Trying to think of some way to outsmart him, he figured, seeing as she obviously couldn't over power him. Well, he highly doubted she could trick him either.

"You're going to get caught you know," the girl suddenly burst out, making Zetsu's eyes widen imperceptivity. Mouthy _now_, wasn't she? "Konoha ninja will come bursting through that door any moment now. 'Closed' or not!" Zetsu's eyes relaxed once more. He was all too familiar with this ploy, designed to make him doubt his own security. The bluff was easy to detect in the set of her jaw and the wateriness of her eyes. Had she herself believed what she had said, she would look much more relaxed. He allowed himself a slight smirk, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"_Are you threatening us_," he purred softly, in a dangerous tone. He saw her bravado façade falter and he found it amusing. How dumb did people think all criminals were? He had had that scare tactic used on him many times, and he was one who usually avoided such face to face confrontations. He was intelligent enough to know whether or not he had been found out.

" Maybe," she replied guardedly. She swallowed and lifted her chin. The action displayed her open neck, a challenge that dated back to when humans were no more than animals. It was an instinctual move that was not lost on him. "I tipped off Hinata." The girl that had interrupted them before, he recalled. "By now she will have already made it to Tsunade, and the ANBU are on their way." She emphasized her point with a curt nod of confirmation. Zetsu just watched her. Her fists clenched. "What? You don't believe me?"

"**No**," he replied simply, after a pause in which he had allowed her over active and detrimental thoughts to undermine her own confidence. He watched her face fall, seeing her false hope finally become nonexistent. Her eyes darted around quickly, looking for some sort of weapon, but she didn't find any, just as he knew she wouldn't.

"_You tried too hard to make it plausible_," he explained. "_No one would try that hard on the truth_."

"**It was pretty dumb actually**," he muttered. The slight movement of her fingers clenching and unclenching caught his eye, stopping him from saying more. If he continued to back her into a corner, she would strike out like a wounded animal. He was confident he could take her, but he didn't want a crazed kunoichi on his hands. It was a balancing act, scared enough that she was obedient, not so scared that she was desperate.

"_Don't worry too much_," he assured her, his voice as close to soothing as it could get. "_Our business here is simple. Your cooperation is all we need_." He saw something change in her face then. It hadn't been what he had intended, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was either. She looked at him more easily all of a sudden, not as afraid. The hostile way she stood, the distance of between her feet and the set of her shoulders all eased away. Something akin to hope seemed to have taken root in her eyes. But not the hope of survival like he had meant to put there, a hope of something else that he wasn't entirely comfortable with, something like fulfillment.

"Are you going to hurt the people of Konoha," she demanded. He was somewhat taken aback by the confidence in her voice. Not the fake and forced kind of before, but the quiet self assured sort. The kind only used when someone is in a place they are comfortable in. There was no more tremble in her voice. Her tone was almost as if she were striking a bargain with him, but he didn't remember proposing any deals.

"**I don't plan on it, yet**," he answered honestly, bewildered. This seemed to satisfy her somewhat and she nodded, looking down at the ground thoughtfully, as though pondering whether or not she would agree to these terms. "**It's not a choice thing. You don't cause any problems or you die**." She looked back up at him with a sardonic smile on her lips. He only frowned inwardly.

"That sounds like a choice to me," she replied. He sighed. Dying had never seemed like a real choice to him. "But as long as no harm comes to Konoha, its inhabitants, or to me, I'll cooperate."

As long as you still need me to, she continued, though almost subconsciously in her mind. It was that word, that word that had gotten her in her most vulnerable spot. Almost all it had taken was that _simple_ word, and she had agreed to be of almost no trouble. _Need_. He _needed_ her to cooperate. She glanced down and to the side as she took a steadying breath. There was that small angry part of her, horrified that she wasn't fighting this village traitor to the death, all for her own selfish reasons. Most of her though, was silent.

"_Well then, I suppose, Yamanaka Ino_-" Ino had jerked her head back up to watch the missing-nin when she had heard his voice. He took a step towards her, but that was when his sentence was cut off. He lurched forward, a small gasp of pain issuing from his lips. He curved over, as though clutching his side, though the sleeves of his large cloak hung loose. If he hadn't been restraining her with them minutes ago, she would have though he didn't even have any arms.

Without thinking, the medic in Ino stepped forward, grabbing his shoulders and helping to support his weight. It wasn't until the blow was already well on its way that she realized her mistake. All the air was driven out of Ino's lungs as a kick buried itself in her stomach, and a stinging backhand sent her crashing into the cabinets on the other side of the room. Dazed, Ino could only crumple into a heap at the base of the wall, trying to remember how she had gotten there.

It had happened so fast. She hadn't even seen it coming. No blurred fists or feet, just pain and the sensation of flying. As her brain struggled to rewire itself after the impact, her first coherent thought, was that she was an idiot. Her instant reaction had been to help the injured man. The knowledge of who he was just hadn't managed to catch up. She groaned, pushing and dragging herself to her feet and leaning heavily against the wall. "I'm sorry," she muttered. Despite the fact that it was her that had been struck across the room, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was she that had done wrong.

"**Don't touch us**," he snarled at her, his amber eyes fierce. Ino swallowed the blood in her mouth, and nodded. Her breath had returned to her and she clutched her face, already feeling the heat of a bruise forming there. He was leaning, subtly now, on a table, letting it bear some of his weight. Ino bit her lip, watching him warily now, fearful of another outburst.

"_Are you a medic_," asked the soft voice thoughtfully. He had cocked his head now, regarding her as though assessing her value. It was strange how he could be both furious and curious at the same time. Ino nodded once, he must know that she was, having spent most of the day beside her. "_Then you can heal us?_"

"Yes, I can," she replied, and without being sure of exactly why, she felt the need to tack on, "easily." He nodded, pondering. She could practically see his brain at work. It was like a watching Shikamaru play shogi, mapping out his next fifty moves in a matter of seconds. But there was something different, something that unsettled her and made her wonder exactly what was going on within the mind of the man before her.

When Shikamaru was thinking hard, he looked serene, almost asleep. But emotions were flitting and jerking across this man's face as though he were having a mini seizure. Frustration, anger, exasperation, confusion, it all showed on his features though briefly and haphazardly. It made her press up against the wall on an instinctual effort to get away from the unnaturalness of it. Finally, his neck suddenly jerked and he was staring at her once again, giving her his full attention.

"**Fine, we'll stay here**," he spat, as though they had been arguing about it for some time and she had just won. He managed to look miffed and triumphant at the same time, puzzling her. But she could only nod her acceptance.

"Oh…kay. Where will you be exactly," she asked, not really understanding what he was getting at. Here in this room, this shop, this village? What did he want of her?

"**Here!**"

"_We'd like to stay in the bonsai,_" he explained, smoothing over his previous rude answer. "_On the counter, where we can see all the customers_." He pinned her with a stare, as though daring her to object. She didn't, but for some reason she felt her mouth open anyway.

"You're injured," she began. The little voice started up again. She shouldn't go through with what she was about to suggest. Had the bruises on her cheek and stomach taught her nothing? She shouldn't, but she did. "My apartment is above this store. It would be better for you if you stayed there. You can still stay in the bonsai when I open up the shop," she added quickly, hoping now that he wouldn't find her offer suspicious.

"**I guess I can live with that**_**. **_**Even if it's still a bad idea**," he muttered in grudging agreement.

"_You're too kind_," was the slithering reply that really got to her. She nodded, and it was now that the rationality of her decision hit her. By having him close at all times, she would be able to stick an eye on him. She could keep tabs on him and watch to make sure that he made good on his agreement of not hurting anyone from Konoha. She may also be able to find a way to tell Tsunade, or anyone really, about what was happening.

"I have to close up the shop _properly_ now," she said, lifting off the wall and turning towards the door. He made no move to stop her as she stepped into the main part of the shop. He had no reason to. They had discussed what needed to be discussed, and he had gotten what he wanted. And she had gotten herself into a very deep hole.

And for very selfish reasons.

She pushed them away. She had done what she had done and in her heart she knew why she had done it. But that wasn't relevant, not anymore. She filled up a watering can, and began hydrating all her beloved plants. The plants that needed her. She could feel bright yellow eyes drilling into her; watching her every move. She could sense the kunai targeting her spine, just waiting for her to make a break for it. But she ignored it all. She watered and trimmed, being sure that every one of them had been taken care of. Then she counted the money in the cash register, disappointed by it. It appeared that her family would have to make yet another cut back.

"**Are you done yet**," he suddenly snapped as she bent down to lock the measly earnings in the safe behind the counter. She looked up and scowled at him, already irritated by her family's rapidly plunging budget.

"Almost! Hold your horses," she snapped back with equal ferocity. The plant man didn't reply. With a spin of the combination lock, she secured the money and stood up, brushing herself off. "Okay, now I'm done." She jerked her head towards a flight of stairs. "I live right up there."

"_Lead the way_," he demanded, twirling a kunai around a snow white thumb. So he did have hands. Ino's eyes darted from the knife up the man's face. Then she shook her head.

"Tell me what your name is first," she said, cautious but determined at the same time. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"**Why?**" Blunt.

"Because I've just invited you into my home, and I'd like to know what to call you," she replied in the sassiest tone she dared to use. She saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a smirk that made her heart beat just a bit faster. She put her hands on her hips, trying to look just that much more confident.

"_Zetsu, should suffice_," he said, something in his voice that Ino chose to interpret as sadistic amusement. She nodded slowly, as though deciding that for now, she would accept that and let him off the hook. She simply didn't want to push her luck.

"Okay," she said, and brushed past him to reach the stairs. She knew now why the chest she had been pressed against was so lumpy and soft. She shivered at the thought of the ominous plant and the dark shadow it cast down on her as it towered at her back. The creepy feeling seemed only enhanced by the sound of his uneven gait. When they finally reached her door, she found herself fumbling with her keys. She kept trying to jam it in the key hope, but her trembling hands seemed to have lost the ability to aim.

Suddenly, a black hand impatiently plucked the keys from her fingers. She froze, her eyes widening in shock. He was still behind her, but remarkably closer now. An arm was slipped around her side, and she subconsciously shifted nearer to it. She watched dexterous fingers flip the keys on her key ring until they came to the right one. They slid it in silently, turning it until there was an audible click. Then they turned the knob and pushed the door open. Ino felt him nudge her from behind and she hurried inside, hearing him shut the door behind them.

She glanced around her apartment feeling slightly ashamed as it was very much on the small side. She turned around to watch Zetsu as he took in his surroundings. His arms had disappeared within his fly trap once more, along with her keys she noted with some annoyance.

"Excuse me, those were mine," she said, placing a hand on her hip and reaching out her other one, palm up. She beckoned with her fingers pointedly. "Give 'em back."

"**No**."

"I need them," Ino insisted, not quite sure what to make of this. He couldn't just take her keys. What was she supposed to do without them? And as far as she was concerned, that was just giving him way too much freedom, not that he probably couldn't pick any lock he came across anyway. But she couldn't. She motioned for them again. "_Please_ give them back."

"**No**." This one he emphasized with a shake of his head. Ino bit her lip, tapping her foot nervously. A mere inconvenience, she told herself. Easily overcome, just a mere inconvenience.

"_Once you heal us, you'll get them back_," he finally reasoned. Stifling a sigh of relief, Ino nodded. Then abruptly, he turned and began making his way to the kitchen. Frowning, she trailed after him. Without any invitation at all, a black hand grabbed the handle of the refrigerator and pulled it open. Ino raised an eyebrow at his manners, though really, she hadn't expected much.

"_It's polite to ask at least first, you know_," she heard him mutter to himself. To himself. She hovered behind him, watching with sick fascination the mentally unstable man before her.

"**I don't care. I'm hungry**," he snapped back. He dug around one handedly a bit more. He obviously wasn't pleased with the contents of her fridge. "**And **_**you**_** said we couldn't eat her**." Ino took a step backwards as he jerked his head in her direction. The word _carnivorous_ floated through her mind once more, but not _cannibalistic_. "**Where do you keep the meat?**"

It took Zetsu turning around and pinning her with another one of those stares with his enthralling eyes for her to realize the question was directed at her. She beckoned to the box above the fridge. "In the freezer. I only put it in the fridge if I'm going to eat it soon."

Zetsu straightened up from his bent position and closed the door. Opening the freezer, it took him only moments to pull out the frosted plastic bag with the hunk of raw beef in it that Chouji had given to her as a present. He had told her she was thin and beautiful enough already and that she should eat more. She watched as he opened it up and took a whiff. A wide smile spread across his face.

Then though, he did the dual action thing he had done before. He remained obsessed with the meat he held, but simultaneously swept his eyes over her appraisingly. Ino felt herself faltering under his gaze, and she couldn't stop herself from stuttering.

"D-do you want me to cook that," she asked uncertainly. It wouldn't be an easy task, as it was still frozen solid, but for the insane Akatsuki in her kitchen, she could probably find a way to manage it. But he just smirked and took it out of the bag, massaging and softening the raw meat with his bare hands.

"_That won't be necessary_," he replied, a hint of an exasperated sigh in his voice, though she didn't think it was directed at her so much as his other side. She felt her mouth pull down in a frown at the enigmatic response. She wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted to understand what he meant by that. "_Go clean yourself up_," he ordered suddenly, jolting her out of the dark turn her thoughts had been taking. "_When you're done, you can heal us_." A white hand gestured towards the side he had been favoring.

Ino could only nod and obediently retreat out of the kitchen. She wasn't comfortable just leaving him to roam, unchecked and unsupervised, but she saw no other option. And besides, even if she were there when he did something out of line, how would she stop him? There was nothing she could do now, but comply with him and try to appear to hold some upper hand.

Zetsu watched her go carefully seeing the obedience in her eyes. He had her under control, she recognized him as the alpha male, but for how long he wasn't sure. His hands were tied just as much as her own, and the key to success lie in not letting her know it. All he had to do was keep he scared and uncertain. But she was already uncertain, insecure in her own worth. He could use that to his advantage.

"**Would you quit thinking so hard for four seconds**," he suddenly snapped, scowling. He was still working hard on the frozen meant, determined to put some squelching flesh in his stomach. He hadn't eaten in some time, and the pain in his rumbling middle was beginning to make itself known. "**You're making **_**my**_** head hurt. And **_**you**_** got us into this, so quit complaining**."

With a small sigh, he allowed his thoughts to finally fall silent. He shoved a corner of the meat into his mouth and tore at it viciously. It was cold, hard, and tasteless, but it was flesh, and he gladly allowed the bloody saliva to dribble down his chin. The most enjoyable part of all though, was the temporary unity of his dual personality. For once, they were both silent, and he could almost pretend that he had only one mind.

He heard the tell tale sounds of a shower and glanced to where he now knew the bathroom to be. She would be awhile he supposed. Plenty of time to work on filling his stomach. He proceeded to ignore the many sounds she was making as she clumsily bathed and sank back into the bliss of not thinking so hard.

After finishing his meal and feeling somewhat sated, Zetsu tossed the bloody bag into the trashcan he had found and dragged his wrist across his mouth. He licked away any remnants, then wandered back into the small living room. A couch, a chair, both very soft and squishy, a book shelf full of botany information and a sprinkling of trashy romance novels, an unused looking television with a dusty remote; that was it. It was almost sparse.

But the couch he found himself sinking into was soft and comfortable, and it made his weary muscles realize their ache. He would not spy tonight, he decided thoughtlessly. He deserved a night of actually sleeping. In fact, he could feel his eyes falling closed now…

"Excuse me." He forced his eyes back open, unsure of when they had actually closed. He looked up to see the girl hovering beside his couch, a medical kit in her hand. "I can tend to those now." He nodded, a white hand beginning to undo the buttons of his cloak slowly. Simultaneously though, he was surveying the mediocre kunoichi in front of him.

She had left the bruise that had blossomed across her left cheek. He had put that there. Not intentionally, but she had startled him. He wondered why she had kept it, when as a medic she could so easily make it disappear. Her clothes were less revealing now, just baggy pajamas, but he assumed she had left the one he had no doubt kicked into her stomach as well.

Having undone most of the buttons of his cloak, he let it fall down low around his hips. He watched Ino carefully as she stared at his fly trap, which was still semi-closed around his body. Her eyes were filled with horror, curiosity, and fascination. Of course, if she were any botanist worth her weight in seeds, she would be interested in his appearance. Slowly, he opened it up, revealing inch by inch his bare chest and the half infected gashes decorating it. The plant opened wide around him, as though they were jaws unhinged.

He stood up and took a step towards the medic, who was busy staring wide eyes at his little collection of injuries. He had been found by a group of ANBU a week or so back while scouting the parameters of the village. He probably would not have sustained as many if he had simply fought them instead of trying to run away and avoid them. He hadn't wanted an all out fight, but eventually it was inevitable. In the end, it had been worth it with three bodies to feast on, but the result was one cracked rib and three slices of varying depth that he had never bothered to clean. Not to mention the cut he had received while running from the Inuzukas.

"Those are disgusting," the blonde suddenly blurted out, staring at him with a curled lip. "It wouldn't have taken too long to just put a few bandages on those, you know. Then you wouldn't have these maggot-infested, gross… _things_." Once again, Zetsu was taken aback by her forceful tone of voice and blatant speaking of her mind. He glanced down at his chest.

"_I see no maggots_," he replied blankly. Some pus, perhaps. Maybe a lot of pus, and the edges looked particularly ragged and dead, but he saw no grubs. She had a tendency to exaggerate then, he supposed.

"**Just suck it up and fix them would you**," he demanded. "**I have a broken rib, too**." The girl glanced up at his face again, and he saw the proper amount of fear in her eyes. He had to keep it there. He had to stay in control. He stifled a smirk as she began inspecting his chest meekly. A shiver rippled across her skin as she brushed a tip on his flytrap, and she flinched away.

"I'm gonna have to clean these before I can do anything else," she said finally, opening her little kit. She pulled out some antiseptic liquid and a strange metal tool he didn't like the look of. He eyed it warily as she twirled it around in her fingers. She grabbed up a little tray, too. "Alright, this is probably going to hurt, but I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle." He detected the bit of sarcasm there and frowned; those were threatening words.

Painfully, and obviously not trying to be gentle, she began scratching and scraping the infected sores with her little metal object. The pus and dead skin sloughing off into a stinking pile on the tray. The girl herself looked like she was fighting the gag reflex, and it wasn't even coming off of her. Every time she dragged the cold metal against his raw flesh he winced. It hurt more than actually getting the wounds, and the stench was unbearable. Stuck in the middle of the leaf village, this girl's hands all over him, a painful healing process, and the inability to breathe through his nose, he gritted his teeth. Nothing he couldn't handle, he forcefully reminded himself. All of this…

Nothing he couldn't handle.

* * *

A/N I really hope you guys like it. I worked really hard on this chapter, and I've gone over it so much, I really don't have a feel for if its any good anymore... If that makes any sense. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and so please please please review. Yes ALL of you. I'm talking to you, that's right, you, the one on the computer. Wow... it's late. Okay, just leave a review, you know the drill.

But I really hope you guys like, I live to serve. Hope to see you all next time. Bye bye.

~Yuki


	4. Tea and Coffee

A/N okay folks, here's chapter four. It took quite awhile huh, but you see, I got into this habit of writing all my chapters out wiht pen and paper first, so it adds like six hours to the whole process. And then I edit in hard copy too. My fault.

But ignore that, read the chapter and please enjoy it. :D

Disclaimer- I don't own Naruto; if I did it would probably have turned out very very differently...

* * *

He still winced at the stretch of his scarring tissue when he raised his arms above his head. Not that he needed to much, it was unpleasant when the occasion arose. But the figures on the roof weren't going to be patient and let him take the stairs.

He swung himself easily out the kitchen window despite his somewhat cumbersome shape, and alighted silently on the thatching of the building. The dark statues awaiting him reminded him of the gargoyles he had seen, decorating the gothic churches of far off villages. But instead of _warding off_ evil spirits, they _were_ them.

A brisk wind tousled his hair and fluttered their cloaks, their only movement other than the glistening of their eyes. But he was not judging them, no, he was one of them. Perhaps not their friend, but their comrade at least. The largest of them moved forward then, mechanical sounding clicks and clanks sounding as the inhuman thing advanced.

"Have you got what you've come for," it demanded, its voice akin to that of a man's. The front the three unified figures presented before him and the commanding tone of the man put him somewhat on the defensive, making him stand up straighter and regard them with near arrogance. He _was_ their superior after all, even if _they_ were the ones relaying orders now.

"**Don't we always**," he replied rudely, but he felt no shame at his tone. The mechanical figure made a motion as though to concede his point. Somewhat satisfied, he turned instead to the slightest figure of the three.

"_Your brother looks promising_," he said, off-handedly wondering if the touchy subject of his little brother would get a rise out of the younger nin. But there was no such luck. The man's red eyes just curved up in what must have been a smirk and he replied with a smooth voice.

"Of course he is. I made him that way."

"**And aren't you so proud**," he was quick to tack on. Red eyes flashed at him, but the slight figure didn't move. Finally, the third man spoke up. He wasn't as stoic as the rest, and he didn't seem to mind using his hands and gesticulating wildly as he spoke with a voice that was anything but emotionless. However, this man was not near so easy to read as he let people think.

"And what about the other one, yeah," he pointed out impatiently, his cloak shifting and ruffling as a hand was placed on a hip. The stance made him appear very feminine when compounded with his flowing yellow hair. "One more shinobi isn't going to be of much use, yeah."

"This one will be," the mechanical man said. "I didn't propose this mission on a whim. Orochimaru's students are worth having, even if it's just one." The feminine man didn't contradict him, he rarely did.

"You know what to do then I suppose," cut in the smooth voice of the smallest one. The first man turned away from the three and began grumbling to himself. There was a moment as rapid fire emotions shot across his face, then his lip curled in displeasure.

"**Yeah, we know**," he replied, though it was obvious he wasn't overly pleased about it. The three comrades nodded.

"Good. Now can we get out of here? I hate this place, yeah," the blonde said. Then with curt farewells, they each turned around and began disappearing across the roof tops. The first man stayed where he was a bit longer. He had known that this simple espionage mission was going to turn into something further. And he was more than willing to do it. It would just be long and complicated, and hazardous. One wrong step and it was off the torture chambers and guillotine with him.

But it wasn't impossible.

Taking one last look around, he swung himself back into the window and landed silently on the floor inside. He didn't have much to work with, he noted. Though this whole thing would now be a mostly intellectual battle. He padded silently to the bedroom and peaked in.

A blonde girl was fast asleep curled around her covers. One leg wrapped around her blanket with its pale skin glowing in the moonlight. Her hair was mussed with sleep and her mouth hung open just slightly, pink lips pulled into a pout. A soft breeze played on her face and she let out a tired sigh.

No, he didn't have much to work with, so he would just have to make the most of what he _did_.

* * *

It had been ten days since Zetsu had first threatened to cut Ino's head off, and so far there had been no more reruns. In fact, they had fallen into a sort of uneasy coexistence; working around each other smoothly, and almost seamlessly, but always warily. Though admittedly, she didn't actually see him face to face very much.

But she had gotten used to the feeling of being constantly watched as she toiled around her store and chatted with customers. As far as she could tell, no one had suspected that she secretly hid a missing-nin in the plant on her counter. Though sometimes there was a tinge of guilt when she thought of Shikamaru, still working day and night to find the man she kept hidden in her home.

Hinata had come over once more, and Ino always felt so nervous she was sure Hinata would see something was wrong. But either Ino was a better actor than she gave herself credit for, or Hinata was just too caught up in her new found feelings to notice. She figured it was probably a bit of both. Searching for Zetsu, Shikamaru of course, had not managed to stop by, ironically, to the one place where he would have found him.

However, everything was relatively normal. Her day to day activities were almost uninterrupted. The grocers had started giving her strange looks at the large quantities of meat she had been buying, and the extra mouth to feed was cutting into her already shallow pocket, but she didn't dare complain. It hurt her pride to admit it, but she rarely stood up to the Akatsuki member.

But something else had happened that Ino could only classify as a good thing. To avoid suspicion by constantly staying indoors, she had taken to training every night after work. She would close up the flower shop, then turn around to see Zetsu standing there as though he had been doing so all day.

He would invariably ask where she was going, and she would always answer. "Training ground ten." The first time he had asked why. "To train," was her rude reply, though she knew it wasn't answering his question. He had wanted to know why she had chosen ground ten. The truth was that the number held sentimental value, reminding her of the old times with her team. Team Ten. He seemed to have a knack for knowing when she was doing something for purely emotional reasons. He almost always seemed to have at least a vague idea of what she was thinking.

It made her nervous though, going to train and leaving the missing nin to do whatever he pleased. But it was still broad daylight, how much harm could he do in a village when the sun was shining? No, what made her _really_ nervous was night time. She would lie in bed wide awake, having turned in long before him. She could hear him milling about in her apartment, then the rustling of cloth as he settled onto her couch. Though having a criminal asleep in her home didn't worry her half as much as when she didn't. There were times when she could no long hear his breathing, and her racing mind overcame her sense of self preservation. She would creep out of her bed and pear into her living room to see only empty covers.

He had left again. The first night he hadn't. He had fallen asleep on the couch and stayed there until morning. A strange mothering part of her had twittered about how he must be exhausted, the poor dear. But every night since then, he would disappear, and having no idea what to do, she would just go to sleep in her bed, and when she woke up he would be back, acting as though he had never left.

She wondered if he even suspected that she knew.

Not that it mattered; she was practically a hostage, barely able to get out of her own house without his help. In fact, he could lock her in her own room for misbehaving if he wanted to. After all, he had the keys.

~~~~Flashback~~~~

_"I'm sorry, but I think it's going to scar," Ino apologized, a tint of frustration in her voice. Her medical abilities were not mediocre, and she would usually be able to heal these kinds of injuries seamlessly, but he had let them get so infected and the skin around them had just died; it was simply irreparable. _

_"__**Why can't you fix them? I thought you were a medic**__," he snapped, looking down at her as though she were a dysfunctional product he had unknowingly bought from a store. Without thinking, Ino shot a glare up at him from her position beside his chest. _

_"I _did_ fix them," she replied. "Without this treatment you could have gone septic and died!" She was exaggerating hugely, and she was pretty sure he knew it. But it made her feel better to say that her services were crucial. "Besides, it's your fault for not at least _trying_ to take care of them at least a _little_ bit." _

_"_We can deal with a little scarring_," he assured her blandly. She just gave a nod and retreated away from him. Her medical detachment had started to give out on her, and the feelings that came with touching a criminal's muscular chest were beginning to creep up on her. _

_"Okay then, I've healed you. Now can I have my keys back," she asked, sticking out her hand with the other one on her hip. The same pose she had adopted when previously demanding the return of her captive keys. The man glanced over at her from within his flytrap. It had closed around him once more, though more loosely than before, and he was currently in the process of buttoning his cloak. _

_"__**No**__." _

_Ino was stuck gaping at him like a fish, her empty hand still hanging in the air, surprised to say the least. With a rush of irritation she shut her mouth and clenched her hand, turning it into a threatening fist. She fixed him with a glare that had always sent her genin team, including her sensei, running for cover, or at least whimpering at her feet. "What do you mean 'No'? You said after I healed you, you'd give them back!" _

_"_I lied_," he replied easily with a little shrug. He then proceeded to ignore her and wrestle with the last button at the top. His fatigued hands seemed to be having difficulty with it. As he unsuccessfully struggled with it, he seemed oblivious to the silent fuming of the young woman beside him. Said fuming woman couldn't help but be put off though by the way her most potent glare had simply bounced off of him as though he were rubber. _

_And now she wasn't getting her keys back. She drew in a furious breath and readied herself to let loose a torrent of chastising. _

_"No! You can't just-"_

_"__**Yes**__." The cold word sliced through the air, cutting her off and making any more words freeze in her throat. Piercing and terrifying yellow eyes dug into her soul, finding her righteous anger and confidence, and uprooting it. He took a small threatening step towards her, his unbuttoned cloak falling slighting to reveal more of his frightening appearance. As he advanced, Ino stumbled backwards and found herself bumping against the low table. _

_"_I can_." _

_The sudden unity of the two different personalities was more terrifying to her than anything else, and she felt her blood run cold. She wasn't in control, not even a little bit. With him standing there, imposing and towering over her, she couldn't fool herself. Instinctively, she tried to take another step away, only to remember the table. She fell back onto the hard surface with a plop and was left staring up at the man in an even more vulnerable position. _

_"_Do you understand_," he hissed. Ino swallowed, and nodded obediently. He stared her down making her shrink away and then continued expectantly. "_Do you really_?" _

_"Yes…" _

_~~~End Flashback~~~_

Ino jerked awake with a start, still seeing glowing amber eyes in her vision. He was always there, in her dreams. He was everywhere, all the time and she couldn't get away from him by sleeping either. She didn't even remember what he was doing in her dreams; she just always awoke to find those eyes fresh in her mind.

She sighed and put her arm over her eyes. She didn't want to get up, not yet. She just wanted to lie here in blissful ignorance of the world around her. Perhaps she could pretend she was back in her genin days and any moment now her mom was going to yell at her to get up and that she was late for training. And of course, it was their beloved Asuma-sensei that would be running the training session…

She was abruptly torn from her daydream by the obnoxious screeching of her alarm clock. She leapt from her bed and slammed her hand down on top of it. With a little whine, the thing fell silent, probably forever, and Ino was left sitting straight up in bed, breathing hard with her heart pounding away in her chest. She had chosen that alarm clock for the sole purpose that its sound flew her into a state of instant panic, one she couldn't just ignore and go back to sleep with. Now though, she was sorely regretting her choice.

With another sigh, she dug the heels of her palms in her eyes. Just another fun filled day coming right up. She wondered idly when Sakura was going to get back, and it was quickly followed by the hope that it wasn't soon. Slowly, she pushed the covers off of her and stretched her legs, walking over to the closet to slip on her usual outfit.

As she made her way to the bathroom, she noticed with a shock that Zetsu was not in the kitchen. He was _always_ in the kitchen when she got up in the morning. She had never even seen him actually lying down or sleeping, but he wasn't there this morning. In fact, as she hurried around the main part of the house, she realized that he wasn't here at all.

She stood in the middle of the living room, looking around fruitlessly, and she felt her body temperature drop a few degrees. It suddenly hit her just how vital it was that the criminal didn't get caught, not that she didn't rat him out, but that he didn't get _caught_. If Konoha was to capture and interrogate him, he would be quick to spill the fact that she had sheltered him. Then she could be considered a traitor for not turning him in.

But she wanted to turn him in, she really did. It was just her sense of self preservation that told her she had to do it subtly, or he would kill her. And she told herself, it had nothing to do with the way, he needed her, or that the thought of betraying the one person who made her feel useful gave her a feeling of hopelessness. It had nothing to do with that. Really.

She was just stuck between a rock and hard place.

Numbly, Ino retreated back to the bathroom to clean herself up. He had gone out many times at night, and he always came back. He was a powerful shinobi; going out in daylight wasn't suicidal. He _would_ come back. But that wasn't what she cared about, she snarled incoherently as she brushed her teeth, toothpaste dribbling down her chin. She didn't care if he 'came back.' She just didn't need her life more complicated than it already was.

After she had roughly wiped her mouth with a towel, she began trying to tame her hair into something presentable. She didn't bother with a shower; she'd already had one last night after her training. She flung her hair up into a high pony tail, and twisted a loose lock around her finger absentmindedly as she surveyed her appearance. A kunoichi stared back at her, she noted with barely a kernel of pride. A kunoichi, but only an average one.

She left the bathroom and dug an apple out of the fridge to tie her over until lunch time. She opened the door to the stairs with only a slight bit of bitterness. She _should_ have to unlock the door to get out of it, but ever since Zetsu had taken her keys all the doors had been kept unlocked to allow easy access for both of them. Including the door to the store, despite her worried protests.

Closing the door behind her, Ino munched on her fruit and trotted down the stairs, only to come to a complete stand still.

Relief wasn't the first feeling that flooded her system, though that would trickle in later. She couldn't actually define the feeling at all, other than that it gave her the girlish urge to giggle and gush. Quickly trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible Ino cloaked her chakra and pressed against the wall, remaining in the shadows. She wanted to witness this clandestine moment, even if she did feel somewhat like an intruder.

Zetsu very _very_ carefully patted the loam around the fragile stem of the Phalaenopsis Orchid. It hadn't been doing well in its last pot. The soil had been leeched of all its vital nutrients, and it had been receiving too much sun light. This was nice new soil and it was in partial shade. He grabbed the half full watering can and sprinkled it a little as well; just to be sure it had everything it needed.

Zetsu backed up to survey his repotting work, flawless of course. The girl was a good botanist, but her shop was littered with mistakes that he felt compelled to fix. He'd prefer to spend a portion of his morning fixing up what was wrong than watching perfectly reparable plants shrivel and die.

Satisfied, he silently, and with the stealth of any good shinobi, began drifting around and nurturing all of the plants with utmost care, not wanting to bruise the delicate petals. He didn't have to do too much work, just a touch up here and there to avoid gratuitous deaths. Finishing with those simple things, he turned his critical eye onto his bonsai tree. He had come to think of it as his own, seeing as he inhabited it for the better part of every day.

He could feel the sluggishness of its cells and the drooping of its branches. He'd come to realize that this was the first of its kind to take up residence in the Yamanaka flower shop, but that was no excuse for the absolutely atrocious nature of its wellbeing. Did she have no idea how to take care of these things?

Suddenly, he stiffened and turned around, catching the patch of blonde hair hiding in the shadowy staircase. He set the watering can down with as much dignity as ever. Inferior men would have blushed and appeared utterly ridiculous, but not him. He was confident enough in his ability to intimidate the girl to fend off any feelings of embarrassment. He was, however, uncomfortable with the fact that she had been standing there, for how long he could only guess, and he hadn't noticed. He'd have to learn to keep closer tabs on his unwilling hostess.

"**Well get in here. Don't just stand in the shadows and lurk**," he finally ordered. His posture was not welcoming though, and he could understand her hesitation, as he stood stock still with only his face now partially visible. Her throat quivered slightly as she swallowed and stepped out into the light. She glanced around the room, her perceptive shinobi eyes catching every little thing he had altered. Finally, imperceptivity cringing, they settled on him.

"Sorry," she said, waving her hand flippantly and heading over to the counter to begin setting up shop. "I was just wishing for some coffee." Her ruse was not hard to see through and Zetsu watched her struggle to keep that forced smile on her face. Once more, he wondered how dumb she thought he was.

"_Coffee_," he inquired with a raised eyebrow. He wove through the displays to stand closer to her and the counter, as she muddled about with the rusty cash register. The thing was almost ancient, and it took a few whacks to get it to open up. With some incriminating crashing sounds, she applied the necessary force and finally got it to cooperate. Then she looked back up at him.

"Yeah. I love it," she told him matter-a-factedly. He tilted his head in mild confusion. He'd lived here ten days, and not once in those stressful ten days had he seen her drink any coffee. "It's great to get you going in the morning." Her face fell. "But it's kind of expensive, so I've had to give it up."

Zetsu knew full well that social workings now dictate that he offer sympathy, or ask more questions to better understand and so empathize with her plight. But he also had no interest in doing so. It wasn't any of his concern if she had to start her day without a shot of artificial energy because she couldn't run a decent flower shop. So he turned away from her and contented himself with glaring at the creeping beams of morning sunshine. He didn't think it would mess with his plans. He wasn't planning on being out in the daylight. According to what he'd seen so far, his target would be out today. It was just a matter of finally making use of his one asset.

"Which do you prefer?" Zetsu was momentarily confused by her sudden outburst, and he glanced around to see her staring at him with semi wide blue eyes. Generally the girl avoided him, but every once in awhile, he got the distinct impression she was trying to bond with him in some way. He hadn't entirely categorized this one quirk of hers yet, and it just went to show that he had quite a bit of work still ahead of him if he was going to control this girl enough so that his plans could see fruition.

"**What do you mean**," he asked blankly.

"Tea or coffee?" Honestly, Zetsu had never put much thought into the matter. He rarely drank anything but water, neither plants nor shinobi needed anything else. But he had tasted coffee once, and hadn't managed to get the bitter taste out of his mouth for some time, so he supposed he didn't like it much.

"**Tea, I guess**," he replied with a half shrug. Seemingly satisfied, the girl nodded and started opening the curtains. Zetsu shrank back into the shadows. He liked to put off morphing into the bonsai as much as possible. He had had plenty of more uncomfortable hiding places, but the tiny tree was slowly becoming a constricting prison. Stuffy and boring, but inescapable. Only when she had officially opened the store did he slide in.

Ino had never truly seen him disappear to be engulfed in the plants, defying the law of the conservation of matter, but she knew he did it. Every time she flipped the sign there was a strange prickly feeling on the back of her neck and when she turned around he would either be gone or suddenly present. Each was unsettling. This time, she turned around to find the room as empty as if she had been alone the whole time.

But she could sense that whisper of chakra emitting from the counter. It had taken her awhile, but ten days of twenty four seven contact had made her at least somewhat familiar with the foreign chakra.

There wasn't much to do that day, she realized as she lounged behind her cash register. Normally, she'd busy herself with taking care of her plants, but thanks to Zetsu, there was no need for that now. She was half tempted to reverse all the changes he had made out of spite simply because _he_ had made them. But she _was_ a botanist, and even she could tell he had improved everything. She sighed, the one thing she prided herself in was raising flowers, and she had even managed to mess that up.

"Um, excuse me." Ino looked up from the bonsai tree she had been staring at during her dark musings to see a slightly pimply teenage boy in front of her. She knew exactly what he was here for, and she resisted the urge to giggle as he shuffled his feet and looked at the floor.

"Yes," she prompted, her tone light and teasing. The boy looked up with his face bright red. "Is there something you want?"

"Well, um, you see, uh," he started, earning an encouraging gesture from Ino. "There's this girl I really like and I'm gonna ask her out and I wanted to give her flowers but I don't know what kind to get her so can you please help me?" His last sentence had come out in one pause-less rush and now he was looking at her as though expecting her to burst out laughing. Teenage boys were so paranoid. Instead, she just smiled and came out from behind the counter.

"Of course I can! Now, what's her favorite color?"

The rest of the day passed by smoothly enough as Ino helped love struck or worried customers pick out just the right arrangements. It was a job she enjoyed and was why she had so excelled in kunoichi training. She loved all the hidden meanings of the different flowers, and how they all fit together into such an aesthetically pleasing package. It was at four o'clock that the last customer finally left and it was time to close up. Normally, they'd be open longer, but she got off early today to allow her to run necessary errands.

"_What a dull day_," Zetsu commented when she turned around to find him suddenly present. It still gave Ino a jolt of adrenaline to see him there so suddenly, and the way he stood always disquieted her. So statuesque, as though he didn't feel the need to lean or fidget, or show any signs of movement at all.

"It wasn't that bad," she disagreed honestly. She closed the curtains with an air of normalcy, then started counting the money in the cash register.

"**It is if you're stuck inside a plant the whole damn time**," he snapped. "**We don't all get to schmooze around like sluts**."

"I'm not a slut," Ino snarled, slamming the cash register closed with a bang. She threw him a glare, then spun around to count the money and put it in the safe. It was true, she had a habit of flirting with the customers, but that was innocent. She got bored, it was entertainment. But at the same time, she knew he wasn't wrong. She couldn't deny her past discretions.

But she'd given that up. No more mindless sex with any guy that boosted her self esteem.

She placed the revenues for the day in the safe and locked it securely. Then she went into the backroom and grabbed her coat. It wasn't that cold out, but his words had hit a nerve, and she was feeling subconscious of her skimpy attire. She slipped it on and came back into the main room to find him standing exactly where she had left him.

"_Where are you going_," he demanded, just like he did every day. Ino had thought he'd be familiar with her schedule by now, but he still demanded she tell him, and she didn't dare lie. She found it almost touching that he always cared to know where she was. It made her feel somewhat special. So she pushed the niggling suspicious feelings aside and replied easily.

"Grocery shopping. I'm not used to having to feed two mouths," she said not quite being able to hide the tinge of bitterness. He was affecting into her budget, however slightly. He nodded thoughtfully, then walked over to a group of flowers.

"**Take us with you**," he demanded, pulling out a healthy purple blossom. He twirled it in his white fingers then walked back over to her. "**I need to get out more**." Ino held back her comment about him getting out plenty during the night. She still didn't know if he knew she was aware of his midnight excursions.

"I'm just going shopping. It's nothing important, and you can't come," she told him as sternly as she dared. She needed at least some time away from his constant oppression. She brushed past him and retrieved her purse from behind the counter. Suddenly, a black hand clamped down on her wrist. Not tight enough to bruise, but plenty tight enough to hurt.

"**I didn't **_**ask**_," he growled. Despite her gut instinct, she glanced up into his yellow eyes and felt her knees go slightly week. Standing up to him became physically impossible. She swallowed.

"_We'll be in this_," he began explaining. It hurt that her submission had come so quickly and obviously. "_Don't waste your time trying something drastic. Even as something so small, there are ways to kill you easily_." His voice, a soft purr, left no doubt in her mind. "_It'll go here. Don't move it_."

With his black hand still clasping her wrist and preventing her from shoving him away, he gently pushed her blond hair aside. His cold fingertips brushing her skin sent shivers down her spine. Patiently, he placed locks of hair behind her ear, and then tucked the flower in. She stared at him fearfully, the caged voice screaming something about molestation.

But she didn't feel molested; his gentle hand made her feel treasured.

"**Close your eyes**," he said, his harsh voice husky. She did so obediently. Then a spike of chakra and whoosh of air, and she knew it was safe to reopen them. She stood stock still, glancing around nervously, half expecting to see him still in the room. It was unbelievable that the entirety of his mass was tucked elegantly into her hair.

She took out the flower and held it before her for inspection. He was really in there; she could feel him. Briefly, the thought of simply crushing the offending plant flit through her mind, but she squashed that quickly. He needed her if he was going to be able to survive in Konoha. What would he do if he didn't have her to watch over him? He needed her. Plus, he was still dangerous. She didn't know how, but she knew he was. Carefully, she replaced it back in her hair and put on her shoes.

Just don't do anything that could give away Konoha secrets. Other than that, pretend he's not there, she told herself calmly.

* * *

Celery or carrot sticks: that was the question. Ino placed her finger on her chin and pondered the question long and hard. Celery was cheaper, but was absolutely disgusting. At least as far as she was concerned. Carrot sticks tasted better, but they were so expensive…

Finally, she decided on celery. She had to buy extra pork chops for Zetsu anyway.

As she was placing the sticks in her basket, she suddenly she felt goose bumps rise on her forearms. Unmistakable goose bumps. She looked up quickly and easily spotted the source. Blue black hair ruffled attractively, pale skin with slightly aristocratic features. Dark clothing and lean muscles, the youngest Uchiha was unmistakable.

I should talk to him, she thought. She didn't obsess over Sasuke like she used to, but it was impossible for a girl's body not to react to such a fine specimen. And besides, she had time. He was standing next to the tomatoes with his basket in his hand, staring at the fruits very intensely. Perfectly good tomatoes were replaced back in their box over and over again as he found them unsatisfactory. Always so mysterious.

"Picky much Sasuke-kun," she said with a giggle as she stepped beside him to grab a few tomatoes for herself. With a quick glance into his basket she noticed that was almost _all_ he had. Tomatoes and a small bag of cat food. He gave her a half shrug and finally placed another into his basket to join the other five rolling around.

"My tomatoes need to be perfect," he replied, his voice like dark molten chocolate. Ino nodded understandingly. She grabbed one, rolled it around in her hand, saw it wasn't bruised and put it in her basket. Judging by Sasuke's skeptical look, it wasn't one he would have chosen.

"I never knew you liked tomatoes," she said thoughtfully as she weighed another in her palm. "To tell the truth, I never knew what foods you liked at all…"

"After all those years stalking me," Sasuke asked, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. A small inner part of Ino that did not happen to be in a cage, managed to murmur with some satisfaction that her heart no long fluttered when he looked at her. The rest of her wrinkled her nose indignantly.

"I did not _stalk_, I _clung_," she corrected him. Actually, she'd done both, she reflected. Desperate for attention from a guy who'd never give it to her. Pathetic.

"Hn," was his only response. Ino struggled to resist a sigh of exasperation. They'd deteriorated right back into his mono syllabic vocabulary; and she'd thought they'd been doing so well. But as usual, such things as being ignored could never deter her.

"So, since I never stalked you and so wouldn't know, tell me: what's your favorite food," she pressed. She knew the man beside her was not the same boy she had badgered back in their pre genin days, but still, she felt as though he was. He had not returned from Orochimaru willingly, indeed Naruto had had to make good on his promise of dragging him back unconscious and bleeding. But still, he was back wasn't he?

Too engaged in morbid wonderings, she had failed to notice the fruit being waved before her eyes. At first, she wondered why Sasuke was dangling a tomato in front of her nose, until she realized he was answering her question.

"Oh. Tomatoes? That makes sense."

Sasuke just nodded then went back to his searching. Briefly, Ino wondered how many he was planning to get. He already had seven, and they were crowding his cat food. Speaking of which, why did Sasuke even _have_ cat food? She'd thought he hated animals.

"What's with the pet chow," she asked, realizing but not caring how nosy she was being. Sasuke glanced into his basket as though he didn't know what she was talking about, and then he shrugged. If he weren't the great Uchiha Sasuke, Ino was sure he would have blushed.

"There's a stray cat near my apartment. It looks hungry," he replied bluntly, not looking at her. Ino instantly felt her heart burst into warm fluffies and she knew she was looking at him with dopey girlish eyes. But she just couldn't help it.

"Ooh, that's so cute," she gushed. In retrospect, she regretted in. She knew he hated that sort of thing, but it was female instinct. Typically, he glared at her, grabbed his last tomato and turned away.

"Hn."

Then off he went to go purchase his beloved tomatoes and cat food for the poor starving kitten.

* * *

"_Interesting that the little Uchiha should love cats_," Zetsu said suddenly with a thoughtful air. Ino looked up from her romance novel with a shrug.

"Why? There are dog people and there are cat people. Sasuke's one of the cat people," she said simply. She had just gotten out of the shower after her training session and they were now lounging in her meager living room. Her stretched out on the couch with a trashy novel she wasn't that into, and Zetsu perched on a chair dining on a raw pork chop sandwich. It was one of those silent moments that could be either comfortable and almost pleasant, or stressful and hostile. This one was comfortable.

"**Yeah, but all the Uchihas I know hate cats**," he replied. Ino raised an eyebrow at him and doggy-eared her page. She didn't like the male character anyway. He was too perfect.

"And how many Uchihas do you know," she asked pointedly.

"**More than you**," he was quick to snap. Ino just rolled her eyes. That was not a point worth arguing.

"_It makes some amount of sense though, I suppose_," he continued, completely ignoring their little spat. Ino cocked her head at him. Why the sudden interest in Sasuke's quirks? "_What with how much he hates Itachi_."

"You lost me," Ino said. It was hard to keep up with his conversations when half of them went on in his own head. He also seemed to have lost interest his sandwich and it was lying on the short coffee table. "Itachi has nothing to do with Sasuke liking cats."

"**I wouldn't be so sure Blondie**," he disagreed slyly. Ino gave him a suspicious look.

"Oh?"

"_Itachi was one of those disturbed children. Must have come from learning to kill at the age of seven. And what do disturbed children do," _he prompted, watching her expectantly. Ino shifted uncomfortably, more acutely aware of her vulnerable position. She wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say.

"Cut themselves?"

"**Oh come on, Itachi's not **_**that**_** dumb**," he scoffed suddenly. Ino scowled at him in return. You didn't have to be dumb to cut yourself. You just had to be a bit sick in the head.

"_No. Itachi didn't cut himself_," he said with a sigh, though this side of him was patient at least. "_Itachi preferred to cause harm to others. In short, animals; cats in particular."_ A curling, sick feeling in Ino's stomach told her where this was going. "_He made very good use of the simple Uchiha fire techniques_."

"He tortured them, didn't he," Ino whispered as her book lay forgotten on her churning stomach. She sat up and let out a disgusted sound. "Set them on _fire_… That's _sick_. Itachi's a sick bastard…"

"_I don't think it's a coincidence then that Sasuke's taken it into his hands to feed poor hungry kittens_," he said, and Ino nodded in agreement. Then, with a last shudder of disgust, she lay back down and picked up her book. Maybe being immersed in the world of huge biceps and ridiculously perfect good attitudes wasn't so bad after all.

They sank back into silence once more, each involved in their own thoughts. Then with the slightest ruffle of fabric Zetsu got up and left, sliding into the kitchen. She subtly watched him leave, then glanced down and saw the remnants of his forsaken sandwich still on the coffee table. She huffed indignantly.

"Hey," she called. "Don't just leave that here, it's disgusting." No answer. "You were eating it, you pick it up." Again, no reply. "Well, I'm not picking it up, it's gross!" Silence. "Come on! It's gonna stain the wood!" Not that her cheap table was actually wood, but she liked to think it was.

With a sigh of exasperation, she lowered herself to simple grumbling, knowing she'd still have to clean it up later. His silence though, while common, was unnerving. As was his interest in Sasuke. Maybe she shouldn't have gone to talk to Sasuke with Zetsu right there. But she had pushed his presence to the back of her mind, hadn't even given him a thought. And besides, how much could he find out?

How much harm could Zetsu do to Sasuke just by knowing he loved tomatoes and cats?

Meanwhile, Zetsu was mulling over these new tid-bits of information like a child with a new toy. He took a tomato from the fridge and began tossing it up and down in the air. Weaknesses came in many forms, and these two connections to Sasuke's delicate past were just what he needed. He heard the girl yelling at him, and ignored her with practiced ease. After so much time spent ignoring one another in his own head, someone else was little more than a fly.

He allowed her to attempt to boss him, not finding a reason to put her in her place. To terrify her too much would only make her volatile and desperate, and that wasn't what he wanted. After a bit, he heard her close her book and toss it back onto the shelf. With a myriad of swearing and disgusted mutterings, she tossed away his leftover food. Then she began to get ready for bed.

It was dark out.

Grateful for the cover the night provided, Zetsu walked thoughtfully to the kitchen window, still tossing the fruit.

"**This could be complicated.**"

"_It won't be._"

Glancing down into the alley way, he spotted an emaciated tom cat digging around in a dumpster. Smirking at his gratuitous cruelty, a black arm suddenly launched the tomato at the animal quickly and efficiently.

A yowl echoed in the night.

* * *

A/N you know, I have a thing for Sasuke. He's just such a pivotal character in the manga he ends up as a plot device in my own stories. And for any of you wondering, there will be no Ino x Sasuke in this fic, that's not how I use the pretty boy. Hmm, that last sentence didn't sound so good.

But, I'm much to lazy to continue writing this Authors Note, so the important thing here it. I sincerely hope you enjoyed that chapter, and if you did, I humbly request of you to please review. And if you didn't think it was so hot... I still want you to review.

**note to shadow readers, you are not exempted from my review begging...

So see you later folks, tah tah for now.

~Yuki


	5. Good Nights and Vulnerable Positions

A/N OMG guys, I actually did it. Truthfully I was starting to get a little scared there myself. Was I never going to feel the fire for this story again? Then my friend came over and spurred me into action. I have to apologize though!! Not only for being so late (though I'm sorry for that too) but for finally updating with such a chapter as this. It seems long and rambly and contradicting to me. Lol, that's probably because I wrote it in segments at totally different times, so at one point its dramatic and angsrty and the next it's light and fluffy. Oh well. At least it's here right?

A NOTE ON ZETSU: Yeah, okay, pay attention to which hand is being used in some of the actions, I'm using that as character development as well.

Disclaimer: I do not own, because if I did, my lazy ass would barly get Naruto up to episode 10.

Now on with the story!

* * *

"I thought you didn't even like vegetables," Ino said as she leafed through the dusty old tome she had miraculously found in a back corner of her kitchen. She didn't cook much, only knowing basic recipes by heart, but never before having to make anything more extravagant. Until now, when Zetsu decided that he was hungry.

"**Tomatoes aren't vegetables, they're fruit**," he corrected her blithely, remaining focused on the cookbook lying on the counter before her. Ino just sighed and turned the page, still yet to find anything appetizing. The man behind her was dead set on finding a main course meal made almost purely of tomatoes. Ino wasn't blind enough not to realize that it had something to do with Sasuke.

"Still, I thought you only ate meat." She paused at a yellowing picture of thick round tomatoes stuffed with…something. It was hard to tell in the old photograph. Still, it looked edible, which was more than she could say about the other concoctions they'd been looking at. She began skimming the ingredients, hoping they were simple enough that she wouldn't have to make an extra trip to the grocery store.

"_I never sad that. I eat a large variety of foods_," he said, leaning over her shoulder to observe the recipe she had flipped to. He let out a little hum and quick emotions flit through his features. Ino couldn't help but watch, entranced, by the way his face moved when he thought. She'd come to realize that Zetsu must have almost as much intelligence as Shikamaru, but they were very different in showing and using it. It hit her that, had they been on the same side, they might have gotten along very well.

"**Make this**," he ordered, pointing with a black finger. Involuntarily, Ino jumped as it brushed against the back of her hand and her body finally reacted to the near presence of the man behind her. She could feel the heat of his chest warming her back, and her heart quickened. How had she let this happen? How had she let herself fall into such a vulnerable position: her arms fairly pinned in front of her, kitchen knives with his reach? Asuma-sensei would have been ashamed. Her hands began to tremble, and she hid them under the counter before he could see her fear, though with him so close he could probably sense it.

"Sure, whatever you say," she replied, trying to inject some of her customary sarcasm. But the way her voice broke on 'ever' was too much of a giveaway. "Let me just check to make sure we have everything here." She prayed that he would take the hint and release her, but then realized: she didn't need him to _take_ the hint, she needed him to _act_ on it.

"_It doesn't look very complicated_," he said, almost with a note of disapproval. He hadn't moved, but she swore she could feel his breath on her neck. She stared hard down at the false granite in front of her. Why wouldn't he let her go?

He's not keeping you here, murmured a cynical voice in the back of her mind. You're just not moving.

Suddenly struck by the treason in that thought, Ino turned around and, careful not to look into those convicting eyes, placed a hand firmly on his cloth covered chest, fingers splayed. "It's not, but I just want to make sure I don't have to run to the grocery store again." She forcefully straightened her elbow, shoving him at least an arm's distance away. He had no right to be so close, she told herself.

Encouraged by the fact that he hadn't lopped her head off in that instant, she moved to brush past him and reach the refrigerator. Suddenly though, she felt a large hand wrap around her wrist, preventing her from removing it from his chest. She tore her eyes away from her destination and locked them on the yin and yang like spectacle; his black hand gripping her cream colored one painfully. Frightened, and with the full intention of apologizing for her uppitiness, Ino looked up at him, but the words couldn't form.

He was glaring stonily down at her, and Ino braced herself for some kind of chastising, hopefully verbal, but it didn't come. After decade long seconds, he released her and stepped back, glowing eyes still locked. She could feel them boring into her as she made her way past him and opened the fridge. Far from encouraging, her lack of punishment made her even more wary of him.

"Well," she began awkwardly, her voice pitched just a note lower than usual. "We won't have any tomatoes left after this, but we can't just let them go to waste, so it looks like we'll be eating leftover stuffed tomatoes for days." The thought did not appeal to her. She didn't particularly like the pulpy fruit unless it was mashed into sauce.

"_And?_"

"And that sucks," she muttered, pulling them out one by one. She tossed them over her shoulder, confident in his ability to catch them. It took some searching, but eventually, she found the onions, butter, and cheese as well. When she turned around, the tomatoes were already arranged neatly beside a cutting board and a petite little knife she hadn't even known she owned. With a mental shrug, she propped the aging cook book up against a cabinet and looked over the recipe one more time.

"**We'll take care of these**," he said, taking the onions from her. She just nodded and handed them over. Digging out the innards of a tomato, took precision anyway, and she wasn't sure she wanted to entrust that to an unstable criminal.

They worked in awkward silence for a time; each to their own designated kitchen corner. They didn't bother to converse and the tension steadily increased with each tick of the loud clock.

"Why did you want tomatoes," Ino asked abruptly when it became unbearable. Despite the less than tactful outburst, she could feel the oppressing discomfort drain away. She chanced a glance in his direction and she felt it all rush back, though this time one sided. She instantly turned back to her _riveting_ cutting job.

"_Because I like them_." Maybe, when he tried, Zetsu could be a convincing liar, but either he wasn't trying now, or he wanted her to know he wasn't going to tell her, because it was painfully obvious that that wasn't true. There was another lapse into silence and the distinct chop, chop, chop of his blade on the cutting board sounded sharply in her ear.

Despite her sudden hyper awareness of him, she tried desperately to push the images in her mind away. A very, _very_ loose cloak. A half opened fly trap, revealing just enough of his muscular chest to give her a taste, and just little enough to let her imagination run wild. She had barely minded when it was riddled with infections begging for her attention, but now, healed with fresh scar tissue, and here, in a kitchen that had been used for more things than just cooking: it was another story.

Best to just not look at him.

Still though, she began, slowly, to feel her resolve crumbling. It wasn't that she harbored any illegal feelings for the criminal. It wasn't that she had fallen in love with him and was only trying to deny it to herself now. It was that she craved the feeling of being wanted. That feeling that it seemed only alcohol and one night stands could bring her, as sickening as that thought was. She wanted to break her promise to Shikamaru. Why had he even made her swear to that in the first place? It was stupid.

She chanced another glance at the man who was now very finely dicing the cubes he had already cut. The sun glinted off his bright amber eyes, making the shadows on his face starker, sharpening his appearance. As her own hands stilled, Ino felt the lust rise up within her. A carnal, shameful lust.

She wanted to jump Zetsu.

Suddenly, the knife slipped from her fingers and she watched in shocked slow motion as it spun to the ground. It landed with a clatter that broke the silence she hadn't even been aware of. What had she been thinking? Her last thought alone was enough to grind her raging hormonal train of thought to a halt. Jump Zetsu? It almost, though notably not quite, made bile rise in her throat. She needed fresh air, she needed to get out. She needed to distance herself from this grave she was digging.

"**What the hell?**" The harsh voice brought her crashing mercifully back to reality. "**What are you trying to do? Cut off your toes?**"

"_How much do you think _that_ would cost_?" Ino sent him an indignant glare and knelt to pick up the knife she had dropped. So shaken and embarrassed was she, that Zetsu's curious outburst of emotion went unquestioned. With a sigh, Ino stood up and started rinsing off the knife.

"My hands got sweaty. Wouldn't have happened if it weren't so hot in here," she muttered, almost instantly regretting it afterwards. There was no way to miss the convicting note in the tone of her voice. It would raise his suspicions, and the last thing she needed was his knowledge of yet another of her weaknesses. "Anyway, we can stuff these things in a minute. I'll be done soon."

"**Not soon enough**." Ino turned in surprise to see Zetsu with another knife, carving out the innards of an innocent fruit. The ease and precision with which he mutilated the thing sent a little shiver down her spine; maybe it was because the round, bright red thing resembled Hinata's face so much, or any blushing girl for that matter. He'd probably torn out the innards of those as well.

She gave another involuntary shiver.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm trying to make them perfect," she replied, snatching up the last one and setting to it, with a much lower degree of perfection, she admitted mentally. She resisted the urge to glance appraisingly at the finished one he set beside her, knowing full well that it would only make hers look worse. Meanwhile, she glimpsed Zetsu leaning in to study the recipe.

"**You're doing that wrong, you know**," he suddenly told her, eyeing her tomato. Ino followed his gaze with a pout. So it was a little rough around the edges, that didn't make it wrong.

"No I didn't. It looks fine!"

"_Yes, you did_." A white hand reached out and took the tools and fruit from his hands. He deftly snipped off the top. "This _was supposed to come off first. Then the rest."_ She frowned, reading the directions and then looking at her tomato. Ino scowled.

"Oh, how would you know? You eat your food raw, anyway," she groused taking her stuff back and emptying out its remains. She should have seen this coming. Working with him was a bad idea; he was too controlling. He didn't respond to her jabs much either, which depending on her mood could be either satisfying of irritating. This time, she kept her peace.

The stuffing part went on fairly quietly, as all finesse was lost on this particular task. It was messy and sloppy and no matter how dignified the two tried to look, the counter ended up littered with bread crumbs and tomato juice. As Ino was shoving the last bit under the lip of her fruit she happened to glance up at the man still standing at her side. The girlish giggles were up and out of her throat before she could even try to stop them.

She desperately covered her mouth with a hand as she tried a last ditch effort to stifle them. But when he turned towards her accusingly, the pouting form of his lips made her laugh even harder. Wordlessly, afraid that if she opened her mouth, the full sound would come tumbling out, she motioned to her nose. His lips twitched down in a confused frown.

Finally, a full laugh escaped her lips and she tossed her head back. But before it could get out of hand, she reigned her mirth back in. She tapped her nose again, brushing the end of it. He only cocked his head slightly. Ino could see that indignant set in his shoulders one got when they felt like someone was making fun of them, and it actually made her a little nervous. She always felt a violent urge whenever someone pulled the wool over her eyes, and the last thing she needed was for him to get one. For her sake, she took mercy on him.

Grabbing a paper towel, she wet it and reached out to his face. He glared down at her advancing hand as though to pierce it with his gaze, as though it was offensive to him. He took a step back; she took a step forward. Her actions were superfluous, but she still got a thrill from the sense that she was violating him in some way.

"There you go," she said as she wiped away the blob of stuffing from the tip of his nose, though her voice came out much huskier than the chirp she had intended. She giggled again when she saw his white half grow a shade redder than usual. The laugh died in her throat then, when a white hand closed around her wrist. Maybe I should stop putting my hand near him, an idle thought mused. She knew the real problem though. Whenever she made some sort of action that put her above or even equal to him, he was quick to put her back in her place. And here she was again, held tightly in a bruising grip.

A _truly_ bruising grip.

She winced as she heard her bones creak and protest in response to the crushing pressure, and maybe even felt a few thin blood vessels burst beneath the skin. She glanced up into his flinty eyes, trying to find some sort of mercy or at least clarity with him. But she couldn't read his expression. It looked almost as if he didn't know what he was doing. It was as if his hands was acting of its own cruel accord, but his mind, or minds, hadn't yet decided on what course of action to take.

"**You didn't do anything**," he snapped at her suddenly. Taken aback, Ino's eyes widened. She twisted her wrist half heartedly and shuffled awkwardly. She didn't spend a whole lot of time with people anymore, but she was sure that wasn't what they usually said.

"I… no, I didn't really," she agreed uncertainly. "Please, let go…" She was scared. In her head, she could admit that freely. This man was truly insane. He should be in a hospital, or an asylum. Why was she allowing him to stay here; this dangerous man.

"_You should be more respectful_." This time Ino was wise enough to keep her mouth shut. She got the feeling that he was not having a conversation with her. She knew that Zetsu's two halves did not always agree. That was why it took so long to reply sometimes. His mind was a stormy, conflicting place. But to hear him arguing out loud, right in front of her, it was demonic.

"**You didn't do anything disrespectful. A little bold, but not disrespectful**." That voice; most of the time it wasn't a frightening as the other, robotic, cruel, calculating one. This one had emotion in it. Now though, its quarrelsome tone churned her icy stomach. She shrank away from him, losing feeling in her fingers.

"_She needs to be controlled. She needs to fear-_"

"**She's fucking terrified**." Suddenly, hard yellow eyes locked onto her and his earthy, oppressive scent wafted around her as he invaded her personal space. "**You're scared, right?**" Her breath escaped her, until adrenaline kicked in.

"What do _you_ think?" With panicked strength, she wrenched herself away from him and fled down the hallway, bumping into walls and corners in her hate. The bruises that would appear later went unchecked now as she slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it behind her. A thin, wooden, but comforting barrier between the broken sanity outside and her fragile one within.

She sat inside the small room for a long time, preparing to take a hot shower, but not quite ready to. All was silent in the small apartment above the Yamanaka flower shop. The only clear sound was the clicking of the old oven as it preheated. Until the small, vulnerable sound of the opening of the bathroom door and Ino's imploring voice drifted into the kitchen, right before she hid herself away again.

"Zetsu? Please put the tomatoes in the oven."

* * *

He couldn't shake the feeling that his teeth were getting dull. He'd eaten only tender and plushy processed meats since he'd gotten here, and he was starting to worry that he was going to lose some of his more feral attributes. He pulled the T bone he had kept out of the fridge and began to gnaw absentmindedly on it. He pulled a chair from the dining room into the kitchen and sat on it, watching the tomatoes sizzle and bake through the window of the oven. Just like she had asked him, too.

It was a different method than she normally used, which was ordering. She could be a bossy little thing if he let her. She was already bossy for a hostage. He had only been here ten days, one would think she would still be timid, but no. Sure she was afraid of him, everyone was afraid of him. But she seemed more afraid of his instability than of him exactly.

"**She's **_**too**_** afraid though**," he growled through his bone.

"_Too afraid? I don't think she's afraid enough_."

"**You want her cowering. That's dumb**."

"_Why? Frightened people are easier to control._"

"**Easier to control, but too desperate. If we put her back up against a wall, she'll be dangerous. You don't corner an animal.**" The sound of his voice echoing back to him made him realize just how loud he had spoken, and he continued in a whisper.

"_You think she'll be dangerous?_"

"**I don't underestimate her, she is still a leaf shinobi**," he replied. There was a small part of him, not even big enough to be called a part at all, that wanted to stop this bickering. It was this aspect of him that suddenly snarled and viciously ripped the remaining flesh off the bone. As his teeth grinded tough gristle, there was a moment where he was one person. No arguments, no conflicting opinions. Just his jaws and the taste in his mouth. But it didn't last long, the brief respite.

"_I just want to keep her from asking questions. I don't think she'll give us too many problems_."

"**And why is that?**"

"_Because she needs us_."

And then he fell quiet.

He wasn't so sure about that. It _did_ seem that she needed something; the feeling of being needed herself possibly. But whether she was so desperate as to see him in that light he didn't know. Though a creeping feeling that neither of them acknowledged had to admit that the thought of being a lifeline to the beautiful botanist was disturbingly not completely unwelcome.

With an unamused snarl, he bit through the weakened bone, feeling the sweet marrow drip and pool in his mouth. He licked his lips. Whatever the case, things were still progressing more smoothly than he had anticipated. For the moment, she was on his side, and she was helping him to achieve his goals, however unwittingly. He peered into the grimy oven and watched the stuffing brown.

"Are they ready to come out?" Zetsu turned to see the girl of his speculations leaning against the empty door frame, her blonde hair still wet. She was clutching a white towel closed precariously around her, and the more paranoid part of him was suspicious as to her motives of speaking to him in a state of undress, when she could so easily have just changed beforehand.

"**Not yet. Go put your clothes on**," he replied, turning back to the food. He heard her huff and grouse as she padded back down the short hallway to the bedroom. Her shower seemed to have done her good. She was a prideful person, not one that wanted to be squashed so easily by the likes of him. That may aid him, if she was determined to deal with him, on her own, instead of running for help. He wouldn't have to worry about interference. When he heard the door click shut behind her, he stood up and opened the oven. There was a quick debate between his pride and common sense on whether or not to use heat mittens. They eventually compromised, and he ended up with hot pads.

The smell was strong, he noted. Perfect.

"Wow, I'm hungry," Ino announced as she flounced into the kitchen and straight towards the dish cabinet. She seemed back to normal, and though he didn't acknowledge it, he couldn't stop the relief it gave him. She pulled out two plastic plates and a set of tongs. Placing one tomato delicately in the center of one, she turned to him. "How many are you going to eat?"

"**I don't want any**," he said, causing the girl to stop her busy movements and glare at him. He had known he was going to get this response, but he didn't care. It was nothing against stuffed tomatoes, he just wasn't particularly hungry, and he was going to need them all to be sure tonight's events went according to plan.

"But _you_ told me to make them," she snapped, uncharacteristically though, she wasn't brandishing anything at him, and she didn't look threatening. She usually had a tendency to overdo things in her indignant anger, but this one was sincere. "I can't let them go to waste. Do know how much one fresh tomato _costs_?" Again, financial worries.

"_I'm not hungry._" Surprising himself though, he reached out and plucked a hot tomato from the pan, plopping it down onto her second plate. If she was confused by his hypocritical actions, she didn't argue. She just grabbed two forks and as they sat down at the table, wordlessly handed one to him.

The silence they ate in was not comfortable, nor uncomfortable. It was simply agreed on. Their first joint meal and each of them felt as though they had allowed some sort of weakness to show through, and were both trying to figure out ways they could reverse the effects of it.

"It tastes good." Zetsu didn't answer, but the fact that he didn't disagree either seemed to be enough to satisfy her. Inwardly he had to admit that it really wasn't bad. Finishing his quickly, he began to watch her with growing impatience as she ate hers at a normal speed. On a usual day, he would have welcomed the procrastination of the boring risky work of spying on the top shinobi village from the inside, but today was not a usual day.

"_It's late_."

Ino frowned up at him as she took another bite. "No it's not." She glanced at the clock on the oven. "It's only half past nine, I don't go to bed in like an hour." She slid firmly back into her chair as though to enforce her point. Zetsu let out a soft breath through his nose. It was best to remain calm. He continued to watch her, though he could feel a sort of tension building inside of him.

"**Go to bed already.**"

"No." She had stopped eating now and was staring straight him straight in the eye, almost challengingly. Almost. He could see what she was doing. She was testing him, seeing how far and in what direction she could push. Still shaken from his momentary lapse of sanity, she would be easy to break and send on her way. It would be easy to scare her, probably only a threatening movement.

But that wasn't the way he wanted things. Of course, he wanted her sufficiently frightened. She needed after all to be controlled, but he wanted her to be controlled willingly. A willing subject was so much easier to use than one that only did what they were told out of fear. It boiled down to this: he could quickly and easily win this battle, but possibly lose the war. Or he could let this one pass and have a chance at taking over the world.

He quieted down. It could be an inconvenience, possibly a big one. But it was a risk he would have to take. He leaned back into his chair, Ino released him from her gaze, and she continued to eat.

* * *

The moonlight streamed in through the window as Zetsu waited semi-patiently for the girl's breath to even out. He couldn't tell if she was still awake or only in a shallow sleep. Neither worked for him. He leaned back on the couch with a small sigh. His cloak had been buttoned back up, and it was somewhat uncomfortable to lie down with his flytrap closed around him. He sat back up.

There was no doubt in his minds that what he was about to do was right. Not morally of course, but correct. He knew he would feel no guilt. But there was a niggling in some part of his brain that neither of his halves controlled. Some reference to the girl kept popping up in there. But it was practically sub conscious and no coherent thought could be drawn from it. So he pushed it away.

Finally, the clock ticked to eleven and he decided he could delay no more. He might miss his window of opportunity. Damn it, he might already have. That thought spurred him on, and he got off the slightly creaky couch and silently made his way to the bed room door.

Asleep, or at least it appeared she was. The sight couldn't help but bring a wry smile to his lips. What sort of kunoichi was she? To sleep in such a vulnerable position, especially with him so near. Her throat exposed, her limbs sprawled, and so tangled up in the bed sheets that it would have been impossible her for her to react in time if he _did_ choose to attack her.

**Not that we're going to. **

_Yet._

Satisfied that she would not be a problem, Zetsu padded back down the hallway. He double checked to make sure he had everything he would need, then looked out the window. The alleyway was empty, as it usually was, and that suited him just fine. He opened it quietly and put one boot on the sill, ready to launch off into the darkness.

"Please don't go, Zetsu."

Zetsu froze. The voice was soft, faint, from the bedroom. His foot, still on the side of the window, he looked back into the inky depths of the house. She was not coming after him, like he would have expected her to. That was why he had kept his midnight excursions from her, it wasn't worth fighting over. But her voice was not demanding either. It was almost pleading.

He retreated from the window and slowly, quietly, walked down the hallway. His fingers trailed absently across the paneled wall. If an outsider had seen his face, they would have described it as 'despondently confused,' which may or may not have been an apt description. Truth be told, Zetsu's minds were too perplexed to bother controlling his facial expression, and had more or less let it slacken.

He stopped at the open door, standing behind it, just barely out of view. He stood there, each of them sensing the other's presence. There was no rustling of cloth or pattering of feet. Almost no sign of life at all except for her unmasked chakra signature.

"Don't do it, Zetsu."

The whispered words and the realization that came with them hit Zetsu in the gut like a brick, but he did not move. He could hear it in her curiously resigned voice. She knew. She had always known, probably from the first time. He had not been as stealthy as he had thought. She did not know what he was about to do, or what he had been doing, but she had not been as oblivious as he had thought. In other circumstances, it would have been an ego blow, but in this moon bathed night, with the blonde girl breathing softly in the next room, it only made him wonder.

Wonder about his unwilling companion. He found himself wondering about something he did not usually think about, and almost never with something so close to tenderness. He wondered about her emotions.

Soundlessly and solitarily, an arm lifted and white fingers pushed the door shut on the bemusing girl. With imperceptible rustling, the same hand found a cloak pocket and pulled out the key ring he was yet to use. He lifted the proper one and slid it into the lock. He turned until he heard the tumblers fall into place. Then returned the ring to his pocket. He did not move.

He could see her, in his mind's eye. She was even more reluctant to fight over his criminal activities than he was. She was sitting up in the bed, her usually bright, but now dull, blue eyes smoldering through the door she knew he was still behind. Her shapely legs and hips covered by her quilt. Her toned arms propping her up. The contrast of the moonlight and its shadows accentuating her supple breasts.

His thoughts cut themselves off there.

He looked back down at the lock.

"**Was that…**" Uncertain whispers spoken only to himself.

"_Necessary_." A firm reply.

With a sudden, stillness shattering movement, Zetsu turned and swept down the hall. He climbed out the window smoothly, and seconds later was gliding over the buildings of Konoha.

* * *

Sasuke bit noisily into his succulent fruit, careful not to get any of the staining red juice on the scroll he was reading. Some of it dribbled down his chin, but he just licked it up easily. He had a dexterous tongue, as some of the luckier women had found out.

He was reclining comfortably on his two-seater couch. One cushioned arm to lean against, the other to prop his socked feet on. It was a good night. Fresh tomatoes to snack on, an interesting scroll to read that contained a jutsu he just couldn't wait to try out on Naruto. The blonde would never see it coming. That thought brought a smirk to his lips.

He lounged there for a spell, until he had eaten his snack down to its leafy green hat. Then he rolled up his light reading and padded into his kitchen. He no longer lived in the Uchiha compound, couldn't take the loneliness anymore. This apartment, surrounded by other people, was surprisingly much better. Even when there was a loud blonde in it, which there frequently was.

Sometimes, on nights like these, he was almost, dare he say it… happy.

He glanced at the clock.

"Hm, Shisui's probably hungry," he muttered, and bent down to rummage through a cabinet for the cat food he had so carefully picked out for the resident tabby. Shisui had been the name of his cousin, Itachi's best friend. He used to play the role of the loving bog brother Itachi had never been. It seemed a fit name for the friendly feline. He was a good cat, and had taken an instant liking to Sasuke as soon as he moved in. He was, strangely enough, one of the reasons Sasuke had decided to stay in Konoha at all.

He pulled out the cat bowl and poured some of the dry kibble into it with a soft clatter. He popped a piece into his mouth. Not bad. Picking up the bowl, he made his way to the door and slipped on some slippers. He opened the door and walked into the crisp night air, locking it behind him.

"Sasuke-san, Sasuke-san!" Sasuke looked up from the stairs he was walking down and felt his lips quirk up at the sight of the young girl running after him. She was about four or five, with curly red pig tails streaming out behind her, night gown catching the wind and bare feet slapping against the concrete. She was too young to know or understand what he had done, where he had gone in his past, or the circumstances by which he had returned. "Are you feeding Shisui?" All she knew was that he was the man next door that loved the cat as much as she did.

"Yes, I am," he replied, kneeling down to her level. His voice was somewhat softer than his usual tone. Still cold and stoic, but Chihiro never seemed to mind. "And what are you doing out here so late? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Yes," she replied. She looked her hands behind her back and rocked back on her heels sheepishly. "But I want to show you what I learned today."

Sasuke cocked his head ever so slightly. "Oh? And what is that?" Chihiro held both her hands out in front of her, digits splayed.

"How many fingers do I have," she asked eagerly. Sasuke raised an eyebrow and looked down at her pudgy little hands. She was watching him smugly, with the air of someone who knows something you don't. When he didn't answer straight away, she began to bounce on the balls of her feet. She was so hyper. But Sasuke just smirked slightly.

"Eight."

Chihiro's jaw dropped in shock, then her upper lip jutted out in a pout. "How did you know?" Her tone was accusing, making Sasuke chuckle inwardly. He stood up satisfied.

"Because thumbs aren't fingers."

The child sighed and placed her tiny fists on her hips, still sore about being bested yet again. Then her indignant expression turned to one of confident determination. "I'll get you one day, Sasuke-san." It was a game the girl liked to play. She knew Sasuke was a powerful and smart shinobi, and she fancied herself rather clever as well. Every day she would ask him a question or a riddle, hoping to stump him. She was yet to succeed. "You just wait." His lips twitched, but he fought the smile off.

"Maybe," he allowed. "Now hurry back home before your mom finds out you're not in bed." He reached out then, almost absentmindedly and poked the girl in the forehead with two fingers; as a farewell. Chihiro giggled.

"Okay. Goodnight, Sasuke-san!" She turned and ran back down the hallway, red curls bouncing around after her. At the last moment, she turned around and called back. "Say hello to Shisui for me!" Sasuke nodded and lifted his hand in a half wave. She waved enthusiastically back, and then disappeared.

Shaking his hand in amused exasperation, Sasuke finally continued his way down the stairs. It was a cloudless night, a good night. The moon and the stars were bright enough to make the street lamps almost obsolete, and the gentle night time sounds were calming. But when his slippered foot hit the bottom stair, he froze.

Someone was here, lurking. Old Sound habits die hard; he was always on the alert for a chakra signature that did not make itself known; like this one. It was almost by pure chance that he had sensed it at all. It was masked near perfectly, a high level ninja. But he had felt it. That miniscule tell tale spike of chakra as a technique was used.

It felt as though a clone had been made.

Slowly, silently, he set the cat food on the ground. Most habits died hard, but apparently the real important ones just keeled over. Since when did he not keep a weapon fastened to his body at all times? Barehanded, Sasuke was nowhere near defenseless, but he was without that comforting weight a weapon brought.

Suddenly, Sasuke's ear pricked at the sound of covered, cruel laughter. He turned towards the narrow side street that ran along the edge of the apartment building, the one with the dumpster that held the building's accumulated garbage. The sound rang in his ears disconcertingly. Its familiarity made him queasy.

"Whose there," he demanded in a low voice that shook more than he would ever admit, as he walked over to the alley and peered into the gloom. The sight was horrible, chilling. Any weapon he could have been holding would have clattered to the ground at that moment anyway. He took a step back, fighting to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

A small inconsistent fire lit the shadowy walls. It flickered on and off, a slight clicking sound accompanying it. A lighter. The flame glinted off a leaf headband, and reflected in Sasuke's flat onyx eyes. Vice like hands clamped around a writhing feline, seemingly oblivious to the scratches they received. Sadistic mirth echoed in Sasuke's ears.

A genin, his face barely lit by the tiny flame, crouched in the middle of the dirty street, holding tight to a spitting Shisui. The tabby was wet, at first it looked like water, but then he smelt it. Gas. His little orange ears were down angrily, but his eyes were wide with fright. It was like the cat knew. Sasuke fell back against the wall, his knees giving away. He felt like a child again. Like his old helpless, naïve self. So many memories flooded to him, over shadowing reality. A Leaf headband. A young ninja with cruel laughter. A cat drenched in gas. The shadows dancing. Dark eyes bright with malevolence.

Click.

Click.

Flame.

"Put that cat down _**now**_," Sasuke screamed, breaking from his horrified trance. Veins bulged on his neck, his pupils were pin pricks. His fists clenched. The genin looked up in shock, dropping the lighter onto the damp concrete. Sasuke began to charge towards him, but the startled kid was faster. He stood up, and with worrying roughness, threw Shisui into the dumpster, banging him against the metal side. As soon as Sasuke had slowed to rescue his cat, the genin was gone.

"Shisui," Sasuke yelled, grabbing the lip of the dumpster and heaving himself up. He tumbled over and into the soft trash, his face landing in something even more familiar than gut wrenching laughter. Tomatoes, stuffed ones, the kind his mother used to make for him every birthday dinner. Those happy, happy, _gone_ dinners. With a horrified gasp, he pushed himself up and against the other side of the dumpster, but the smell assaulted him bringing back images he had suppressed for years. "No…no… Shisui where are you?" His panicked voice bounced back at him from the dripping walls.

He cast his hand out wildly and it came in contact with soaked fur. A vision of the charred remains Itachi had once left him flashed past his eyes. With a yell he jerked back, then leaned forward again and swept the whining tabby into his arms. He tried to stand up, stumbling on the spongy garbage as another strong smell of his birthday dinner came back to him.

He braced himself against the side, clutching the cat to his chest. His legs shook, and trembled, barely supporting him. That was when he looked up, when he made eye contact with eyes that were not familiar at all. Intense yellow penetrated him, making him freeze, making him want to shrink away. The animal in his arms yowled and squirmed. Two thoughts came to him then, looking into those terrifying abysses.

One, that that 'genin' had not had a chakra signature

Two, that this was not a good night.

* * *

A/N Yeah, so there it was. I really hope you guys liked it, but I'm very serious when I say I want helpful feed back. I live to serve! sort of. But I hope you guys liked it, and now I must give credit where credit is due.

Thank you to SnowyAutumn for helping me with Shisui's name and also for guilting my lazy butt into gear.

Also thanks to the anonymous reveiwer Joy, who went through and reviewed like every chapter of my stories! Thank you!!

And now, again, I hope you all enjoyed it and please please please reveiw! Hope to see you next time. :D

~Yuki


	6. Loss

A/N okay, so you know, this time. I don't have to say sorry, because I wasn't lazy. Not really. I worked dilligently, and I got it out in a respectable time.

Oh yeah, just a heads up, the format of the chapter names are a hint to what Zetsu's doing. His whole evil plan you know.

But anyway, here it is, and it's too early for me to think of anything else to say other than:

enjoy.

Disclaimer: (fill in applicable praddle)

* * *

He often heard people whispering when they thought he couldn't hear them, about what a sweet little child he had been, back before the massacre. Before he had become an avenger. And in retrospect, he knew they were right.

He was peering into a window, at a curious vantage point, but he couldn't move himself to check from where. It was like a dream, real enough for it to affect him, but not enough to question the strangeness of it. Warm light flooded out of the glass panes, making the window shine like a beacon of kindness. He drifted closer, peering in. Be he didn't feel like an outsider. He felt like he belonged.

"Sasuke-kun, don't you want to open your presents," asked a soft featured woman as she cleaned away some of the dishes from a large dining room. A small boy sat in the high backed chair at the table; his little legs too short to reach the ground. None the less though, they swung proudly as he shook his head and shoveled more food into his mouth. He had flecks of juice and stuffing decorating his face.

"Not yet," he said. "I have to finish first." Mikoto smiled indulgently, cleaning the plates lying in front of her husband and eldest son. The two males gave her nods of thanks, then resumed amusedly watching the youngest of the family, who, as of tonight, was one year less young. With a quick few more bites and a near choking experience, little Sasuke polished his plate clean. He sat eagerly on the wood, so excited it looked as though he were vibrating. "Okay, I'm ready now."

"I don't know, are you sure," Mikoto asked, her voice falsely dubious. Neither Fugaku nor Itachi engaged in the banter, but both observed fondly. "Maybe we should just put it off for another day..." The horrified look on the birthday boy's face was only half faked.

"No! I'm ready now, really!" He hopped off the too tall chair and hurried over to the sink, washing off his dirty face. He turned around with clean cheeks and water soaking through his collar. Mikoto observed him, hands on her hips, with teasing skepticism.

"Well…" Sasuke's eyes got big and shiny, his bottom lip jutting out just barely. "Alright." There was a whoop of juvenile joy. "Itachi-kun, go get your brother's presents out of our hiding place." The boy, young but with eyes older than any man's, got up and disappeared into the expanses of the large house. Sasuke bounced on the balls of his feet.

Outside, trapped within his mind, Sasuke thought he looked much like little Chihiro.

Finally, Itachi returned with an arm load of presents, somehow still managing to look dignified. For Sasuke, all thoughts of looking mature disappeared as the presents were dropped on the table. He sorted them quickly. One from his mother, clothes probably; his father, most likely a book on field tactics or some sort; his fan girls, definitely sweets and other candies, embarrassing but tasty; and finally, one from his older brother. The very first he had ever received from Itachi.

He ripped them all open quickly, not bothering to try to preserve the wrapping paper, and found all his guesses to be spot on. Eventually, all that was left was that one precious package from his much admired older brother. He took his time with this one; removing all the tape before unfolding the wrapping at its creases. Slowly, he revealed a fine collection. One he would cherish for a very long time, until it would be taken away by the same person who had given it to him.

"Six kunai knives," Itachi explained in his soft, clipped voice. "To represent how old you are now." And he had thought his brother didn't love him. Sasuke forced himself not to cry right then. He could do that later, when he was alone. Now, he just walked over, and embraced his older brother, who returned the hug a little awkwardly.

"No!" Modern Sasuke's anguished cry reverberated in his ears, but no further. The sparrow nesting on a branch beside his ear didn't even twitch. He didn't want to see this. He remembered it so clearly, as though it were yesterday. Was that not enough? Did he now have to watch it in agonizing clarity? The happiest day of his life, undoubtedly. His sixth birthday, it had been perfect.

Now, his happiest moment was his worst nightmare. Remembering how life had been, how perfect. It hurt so badly. It ate at him, that feeling of… loss.

* * *

Zetsu watched the young man closely, as he appeared to have some sort of mental breakdown. He was obviously much more fragile than Zetsu had realized, and that thought thrilled him. At first, he had been somewhat disappointed by his lack of ammunition he had to throw at the boy. Fortunately though, the affect it seemed to be having on the youngest Uchiha was profound.

Sasuke stood stock still on the lumpy garbage in the middle of the dumpster, in a dark alley, while in the middle of the night. He gazed up at Zetsu, his eyes unseeing, his dilated pupils focused on something else. The cat squirmed in his arms, but seemed reluctant to leave the safety of them. Were someone to walk in on the happening, they would have turned around and walked away, muttering about how the demon should have never brought him back in the first place.

When the viewing was complete, and the man finally snapped himself out of it, Zetsu withdrew away up into the rafters to watch the fruits of his labors. Sasuke gasped and fell against the metal side of the dumpster, shaken. That was the only significant burst of emotion that showed through before his eyes hardened. With the confidence and grace he usually embodied, Sasuke swung out onto the street, clutching the cat Shisui to his chest. The Akatsuki member followed.

With years of observing people under his belt, Zetsu knew what was running through his victim's assaulted mind. He was smart enough to know that he had been attacked, and that there was a dangerous criminal on the loose, or at least someone who wanted to harm him. Zetsu wasn't concerned though. Suspicion was high enough on Sasuke that his claims wouldn't be taken seriously, and could maybe even be used against him.

After all, he hadn't returned willingly.

He should also be in a lot of pain. Zetsu had devised his plan to target the feelings of loss he knew Sasuke felt deep down inside. All he had had to do was bring them to the surface, which was relatively easy. He watched Sasuke trudge up the stairs to his apartment. Silently, his face a deathly pallor, he took Shisui to the bathroom and began washing the oil out of his fur.

"**What a broken little bastard**," he suddenly muttered, his sympathetic tone of voice at odds with his harsh words. The once shining star of Konoha was barely a shell, a shadow. The way he moved, the way he regarded the world, even before Zetsu had stepped in, it was as though he were merely plodding through life. Even Zetsu, the wretched creature that he was enjoyed living. "**I almost feel a little bad—"**

"_We did good_," he cut in proudly, straightening his back. "_We executed the plan perfectly. Were anyone around to witness it, we would have been rewarded handsomely._" Then he turned and bounded off over the buildings, and even while he took one last pitying look at the dark haired youth, he could only agree with himself.

* * *

The apartment was quiet. Much, much too quiet. **They found us out. ANBU took her away for interrogation**. Curious, that the first thought Zetsu had was almost worry for his pretty hostess. But it was dispelled almost as soon as it occurred. If they had found them out, someone, or a group of them would be waiting for him, and there was no one.

He shut the window silently behind him and stepped into the center of the room. So where was she? He stood still, covered up to the nose in his thick Akatsuki cloak. His face did not betray it, but a simmering anger was rising within him. Slowly, he turned and padded down the hallway. The girl's bedroom door was open, the lock obviously picked. He stared at it for a moment. His hands clenched.

Then, without warning, a black fist flew out in a flurry of movement and hit it, slamming the door shut. A crack echoed in the apartment, and a fissure appeared straight down the center.

"_She defied us_," he murmured in the aftershock. That simmering anger he had hidden so completely before began rapidly bubbling to the spun away from the door, sweeping down the hallway. With a guttural growl he raged through the apartment, his fury only worsened by his frustration at having to keep quiet. The restrictions put on him by being trapped in this village had never seemed so oppressive. He paced for awhile, bickering meaninglessly with himself, before finally retreating to a shadowy corner with a good view of the door.

She would have to come back eventually, and when she did, he would be waiting. It didn't occur to him that she could have gone off to report him. He was confident that for one reason or another, she would not rat him out. Whether because she didn't want him gone, or because she was afraid of the consequences, either suited him just fine.

Zetsu didn't know for how long he had stood there, unmoving. Time didn't matter to him. His thoughts were consumed by the wily blonde, though they weren't coherent. She was just an emotion-rising presence in his mind. The sun had risen, that warm light creeping across the wooden floor and kitchen tile, before he heard her soft footsteps climbing the stairs towards him. The knob turned and the door swung open.

She froze at first, surprised to see him and unnerved by his stillness and stare. It was just a second, though, and she quickly got a hold of herself. She walked over to the counter, setting down some flowers, pretty but flawed, and there for unsellable. He saw her lick her lips, betraying her discomfort. "Morning," she still managed cheerfully. "I just stepped out—"

"_We know_," he cut her off. She turned from filling a vase with water to eye him warily. She stood up straighter flowers forgotten, and lifted her chin challengingly. Her own eyes narrowed.

"**And where the hell did you think you were going?**"

"I _went_ to go see Sakura. She just got back from her mission and I wanted to see how it was," she spat, glaring at him. Who the hell did he think he was; demanding of and questioning her? He was across the counter from her now. She could feel his anger sparking in the air, and it rose her own. She met his gaze indignantly and daringly, then broke it.

She cracked under the pressure. He was too fierce, too powerful. Was her mental freedom worth the risk? She didn't know. Her eyes fixed on his collarbone instead.

"**Don't you **_**ever**_** do it again**," he snarled, moving around the counter and crossing the distance between them before Ino could lunge for a knife. She took a desperate step backwards and felt the unforgiving counter top press into her lower back. She could feel his heated breath blow across her face. Hair rose on the back of her neck and she swallowed. How long since a man had been this close to her? His anger, it was an emotion, more than usually got out of him. Her body craved this.

"Or what?" She pushed all shaky uncertainty out of her voice. He took a step closer to her and she gasped. His chest pressed up against hers and she could feel his muscles flexing as he breathed. He leaned forward, bending her backwards over the counter top. This position, it spoke of other things. Titillating fire roared up Ino's spine, and she arched her back. But she fought it galiantly. This wasn't what they were doing. No, no, this was more dangerous than that.

His eyes glowed from the depths of the shadows cast by his fly trap.

"_I'm sure you can imagine_." The growled words came deep from his throat, roughening the normally smooth voice. Ino's eyes flicked down suddenly in surprise as the cold bite of metal touched her neck. The iciness of it broke her heated lust and her mind cleared. When had he drawn that kunai? Cleared enough to realize the danger she was in. Shocked and scared, she finally moved her eyes up to his, and what she saw there was scarier than the weapon at her throat. They held a wild, irrational gleam, at odds with his usual infuriating calm.

This man could kill her, _would_ kill her, easily. With no struggle, physical or moral. His intelligence and use of logic had always assured her survival before. It would be too risky on his part to leave a trail of dead bodies. But those were obsolete now. Now, she was not so confident. She winced suddenly as she felt him grab her upper arm roughly. His eyes blazed at her and instinct took over.

"Get away from me!" She threw out a desperate arm, shoving him away from her. Large lungfuls of air flooded down her throat. It was only now that she realized how suffocating he had been. When her breath was caught, she swiveled her head around rapidly in search for some sort of defense. Her eyes stopped on the kitchen knives. Not as good as shuriken or—a kunai stuck suddenly in the wall between her and her goal, quivering warningly. Slowly, she slid her eyes back up to him.

"**You **_**will**_** cooperate**." He gestured forcefully with a black hand. "**I **_**own**_** you.**" Ino could only stare at him, her skin going cold. Goosebumps marred her usually smooth flesh. This man. She could understand his strange mood swings, his threats, his violent tendencies. She could be like that, if she lived the life he did. She could be like that if caught during the wrong time of the month. His mind, or minds, though, she could not understand. The way he thought, and perceived things was completely foreign to her.

"What the hell in that supposed to mean?" Her appalled hiss seemed to have little effect on him as he just ever so slowly and ever so slightly leaned towards her.

"_It means you will go _nowhere_ without telling us_," he said, his voice rising in volume and demanding attention. She felt somewhat like she had when she was twelve, with her parents having a talk with her. They had done it all because they loved her, even though she had resented them for it. The impractical girl in her, that one that was far bigger and more powerful than she should be, liked the thought that perhaps he was, too. "_We will know where you are at all times, who you are with, what you are doing."_ Subconsciously, she registered his advancement. Closing, steadily, the distance she had forcefully put between them. "_How long you will be gone—"_

"**Everything**." With a shocked yelp, Ino recoiled from the hard, black, hand that suddenly gripped her chin. The calloused pads of his fingertips felt as though they were searing her skin as they forced her to stare into his face. But she pinned her gaze onto his jaw, refusing to dare to look anywhere else. "**And if you don't…**" Ino didn't want him to continue that threat. He had made an impression, proved his point. Somehow though, she knew that he would not leave it hanging. "**We'll go after that Hyuuga bitch first. She seems weak enough. Plenty of ways to mess with her head. Your teammate next, the fat one. And as for you**—" Her vision suddenly flashed dark as he slammed the back of her head into the corner of the cabinets. She let out a whimper, too scared and hurt to worry about her dignity. His burning fingers closed around her throat. Even in her hazy state of mind, she could feel the strength in that hand. Enough strength to crush her windpipe. "**You know what we can do to you.**" The fingers tightened.

Panic can make a person do stupid things. Things that aren't fully planned out before execution. Usually, one looks back and wishes they had done something different. Or they just snort and shake their heads, surprised and relieved that it had miraculously worked. Directly after the deeds are done, though, there's almost always that sinking, dreadful feeling one gets when they know: they've completely screwed themselves over.

Ino panicked.

All of a sudden, she swung her hand out desperately and a loud crack exploded in the air. Her hand hurt from the force of her slap, but she could only hope that Zetsu's cheek hurt more. He withdrew and Ino dropped to her knees as the dizzying loss of his oppressive presence took hold.

The side of his face stung where she had struck him. Slapped him. Not a blow, not even a punch, just a pitiful, womanly slip. He made no move to alleviate the slight hurt; he welcomed it, in face. The clarity it brought him, the better to see the appalling nature of what he had just done with.

He looked down at the girl at his feet. She was still on her knees, breathing heavily; her heart beat, quick and light, fluttering the soft skin of her neck. She didn't move her gaze from the tile for a long time, until she finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

He knew what he saw there, and it made him feel something. He wasn't sure what, and he didn't particularly care to know, but it was something. He saw fear in her blue orbs, that much was understandable. It was a sort of fleeting fear though, not pure and untainted. There was hate, too. But not passionate burning hatred. It was a bred hatred, bred from growing and maturing in Konoha; it was tired and bitter.

Those emotions weren't what interested him though. They were expected. It was the ones farther down that caught his attention; the ones that made her eyes shine forlornly. They were hurt, and betrayal. His outburst, his threats, his willingness to cause her pain had cut her. More than kunai could.

"**Ino**," he began quietly, emotionlessly. He wasn't sure what he was going to say after that. His white half didn't want to say anything, it wanted to walk away and leave the girl to ponder his words. His darker side though felt as though he couldn't leave until he had done something about the consequences his actions had reaped. Maybe he had meant to apologize, even though he wasn't sure he was sorry. He never got the chance in any case.

"Don't talk to me," she shrieked suddenly. He mentally recoiled, shocked to hear so clearly the hate he had apparently underestimated. But he made no outward movement. His face remained impassive. She scrambled to her feet gracelessly, paying her disheveled clothes and already revealing, slipping top no heed. Before he could have stopped her even if he had wanted to, she grabbed the largest knife in the kitchen, holding it in front of her defensively. He had to admit that the image was formidable. She was, after all, a trained shinobi. "Just stay away from me."

"**Ino**," he said again. The name seemed to warm his tongue this time around. It filled his mouth and rolled out easily in a curious sort of way. He knew though, that her name from his lips sounded anything but warm to her. He took a step towards her, not in a threatening way, not purposefully.

"No," she yelled, slashing her knife radically. He stopped. "Just leave me alone, damn it. Just get _away_, you _**freak**_."

The word hang in the air, heavy between them. There was a moment of silence.

He _hated_ that word. More than anything in the world, he _hated_ that word. How many times had it been used against him? Thrown and spat in his face, the malice mixed with revulsion and _fear_, back before he had learned to relish it. His enemies, his victims, his comrades, his family; all of them apparently of the same opinion. He hated, hated, and feared that word. To hear it from this girl, who had avoided it for so long, froze him in his tracks.

"_Fine_," he muttered through a dry mouth, his expression blank. His white side now took over where his black one could no longer continue. He turned his back on her convicting gaze, addressing her over his shoulder. "_Go to the hospital. Do whatever it is you need to do there. Anything else and I will know_." Somehow, he could not speak for his sulking counterpart.

Then he swept away, leaving the girl in such a way that he felt more as though he were fleeing.

* * *

It was five days later, soon to be six, that Ino stood in the shower. Cold water, she had decided that paying for the heat just wasn't worth the money. Sometimes, like now, she regretted that decision. She stood still, unmoving, face upturned. She knew she was wasting water, but at the moment, she just couldn't bring herself to care. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. The whole hospital did.

There was some sort of civil war in a far off village, an ally of Konoha's. Tsunade had sent a large amount of shinobi to try to tip the balance in her favor, and the results had been disastrous. The enemy had discovered the plot and invaded Konoha's then 'neutral' encampment, slaughtering and wreaking havoc in general. They were all being brought back to Konoha for treatment at full speed now. They should arrive early tomorrow morning and everyone had been ordered to go home and rest, ready to work the next day.

She had told Zetsu just twenty minutes ago, in quiet tones as she fixed dinner. He stood at the counter silently, nodding his approval as he helpfully sliced vegetables. She hadn't quite made up her mind about their fight almost a week ago. She'd actually tried not to think about it, writing it off as a lapse of judgment on both their parts. She had a few general things clear and she had no desire to dig deeper.

One, that she didn't mind letting him in on every aspect of her life. It made her feel important, to have his attention so fully. She ignored the warning lights flashing in her head for that feeling of being needed.

Two, she was still mad at him for the way he had treated her. And she hated that she was mad at him for it. As though she had any right to believe he would act differently. Hurting her was his prerogative as a criminal. She was dumb to have expected anything else. But that still did not mean he had her forgiveness for his actions.

But three, and most importantly, she wished more than anything else that she could take back what she had called him. A freak. Not a very effective insult when applied to a relatively normal person. But to him, with whom it held so much weight, it seemed the lowest of the low. She regretted it painfully, to the point where it sometimes hurt to look at him. She had opened her mouth on a number of occasions to apologize, but she'd always bit the words back, for the sake of avoiding awkwardness.

She turned off the water, standing under the dripping shower until no more drops fell. The atmosphere of the house was tense, as though all the furniture was holding its breath, waiting for something to snap, or drain away. She stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, drying herself off gently. She wondered absently when Zetsu took his showers. Never once had she seen him leave to take one, or coming out of the bathroom afterwards. And everything was exactly how she had left it when she came back after long periods of time. But he didn't stink, and his clothes were always clean. Curious.

She tightened the knot on the towel and stepped out into the hallway, making her way down into the living room to grab clean pajamas from the unfolded laundry basket sitting next to the couch. Zetsu was sitting on the other side, apparently deep in thought. There was a slight furrow on his brow, somewhat cute actually, and his mouth moved rapidly, if silently, as he debated with himself.

He broke off and spared her a brief glance, as she strode into the living room, with nothing but a towel on. Just a brief glance, and not an embarrassed one, just a disinterested one. She tested him like this almost whenever she could, and yet was still almost always confused by his reaction. Or lack thereof. He obviously was not a lusty man; he was too dignified for that. But still, a man was a man and she had never once seen him give her so much as a once over.

She leaned over to dig through the laundry, letting the top of her towel droop. Perhaps it was a testament to her boredom that she found testing Zetsu's sexuality so amusing. Maybe it was the sense that she was playing with fire. Granted, it was also a bit frustrating. She hadn't had a man's attentions in over half a month. Then here was a man, living with her, and he didn't even bat an eyelash.

One day, she would flounce out here naked, just to get a rise out of him.

She grabbed her clothes with a small sigh and made her way back to the hallway. He was still off in his own mind when she glanced back at him. Sometimes she wondered what he thought about, those times when he was so concentrated. Sometimes, she was too afraid to.

* * *

Ino trudged home, slowly, in the dark. She didn't bother to pay attention to where she was going; her thoughts were still filled with the day's work. Her pager had beeped her awake squarely at precisely on five AM, demanding she leap from her bed and get to the hospital as quickly as possible. As she ran through her kitchen to grab a fruit, her hair still sticking up at odd angles, she'd been so frantic that Zetsu's absence almost went unnoticed.

It was forgotten though, when she entered the hospital.

The mess that awaited her arrival was a note short of chaos. An assault on the senses. Dying and mortally wounded shinobi were rolled in by the dozen, the stink of their infections and dead pervading the air. The nurses that tended then fought the gag reflex valiantly. But one could hear the hospital even before they could smell it. Sakura and Tsunade stood atop chairs and desks, shouting orders at the top of their lungs, struggling to be heard over the screams of agony. Their beautiful eyes blazed determinedly, and Ino couldn't help but watch them enviously for a moment, before being swept up in the turmoil.

The work had been frantic and difficult, and many times, they were only rewarded with the death of their patient. Ino had lost seven people that day. The feeling of desperate despair as she watched their heart monitors flat line and their eyes roll into the backs of their heads was not easily forgotten.

She had almost lost an eighth as well, if it weren't for Sakura's intervention. And that was the memory that plagued her now, in this lonely, convicting darkness.

_"Yamanaka-san!" A harried looking nurse stuck his head into the small room where Ino was downing a quick drink of water and a small soldier pill. She'd been healing for six hours straight, and the constant use of her chakra was leaving her depleted and dehydrated. None the less though, she tossed the waxy cup into the garbage can and cracked her neck. "There's another man in critical condition. He needs your attention right away." Without waiting for her response, he turned and dashed off down the hallway. _

_Ino hurried after, sighing as she did so. There was always _someone_ in critical condition who needed immediate attention. As she rounded the corner into the already used, already bloody room, though, she realized that 'in need of immediate attention' didn't quite cover it. But still, she froze, staring in shock. Could she handle this? The insecure question came unbidden into her mind, denting her confidence. _

_"Yamanaka-san." Ino looked up sharply as the nurse called her name again. She glanced around, seeing everyone's eyes on her, waiting for her orders. "What should we do?" She needed to do something, for them and for this man, lying awkwardly on the table, a thick tree branch running straight through his chest. She swallowed and narrowed her eyes in determination. _

_"Move," she demanded, elbowing past some intern that was in her way. She pushed away all her squeamishness and began examining the unfortunate injury. He must have been thrown at some point, landing squarely on a broken and upturned branch. The thing had punched through his chest cavity, luckily missing a full blow on anything vital, but instead it scraped them all. A hole had been ripped through a lung, his heart was beating irregularly due to trauma, and it had severed countless small veins and arteries. In short, the damage was catastrophic and the fact that he was still alive was miraculous. But whether his prolonged life and suffering was a blessing or a curse, Ino wasn't sure. _

_"Should we remove the branch," asked a lower ranked medic. She was pulling in her gloves, and had already slipped the cloth mask over her mouth. But before she could grab the wood, Ino slapped her hand away. _

_"Wait. That's the only thing that's keeping the hole in his lung closed, _and_ keeping him from bleeding out." Ino took a step back, her brow bunching and wrinkling as she thought. This was a delicate situation, a painfully delicate—_

_"Then what should we do-" _

_"Just hold on a God damn second," she snapped furiously. The room quieted instantly, and she turned away from them all, breathing hard. Time was of the essence, she had to act quickly. If she took the thing out, his system might not be able to handle it, and she'd just end up killing him. If it wasn't taken out, he'd die anyway. She clenched her fists. She could do this. Long hours of training to exhaustion, losing almost all of her friends; this was what it had all been for! _

_She turned around. _

_"Alright, we're taking this thing out," she declared. It must have been something in her eyes, for they all snapped to attention immediately. "You, get ready. You'll have to staunch the immediate flow of blood as soon as the obstruction is dislodged." She swung her finger from the skinny boy to point at two stronger looking men. "You two, hold him down. This is gonna hurt like hell and I don't want him moving a muscle. It'll make it worse." She gestured around to the two other nurses and herself. "On the count of three, we're going to pull, as quickly and as smoothly as possible." They nodded and Ino clapped loudly, with a note of finality. "Positions!" _

_Everyone scrambled into place. One skinny boy poised with a wad of bandages. One strong man holding down the wounded shinobi's shoulders. The other on his legs. Then the three women situated themselves around the branch, finding as solid a hold as they could. "Everyone ready?" Five grunts of confirmation and Ino took a deep breath. Her heart as thundering wildly, but yet, she was filled with a sense of pride. She was taking charge; she was making a difference. _

_"One,_

_"Two—" _

_"Stop!" _

_The frantic, high pitched shriek jarred them all, freezing them in their places. Sakura pushed into the room, her face matching her hair in her rage. "What the fuck are you trying to do? Kill him?" The rosette grabbed Ino's elbow, pulling her away from the prone man. "Let me deal with this." She glared at Ino. "I should have been called in, in the first place." _

_Ino backed away slowly, her now resentment filled eyes never leaving the more capable medic. Sakura turned, brushing her presence off as though it were a fly's. Her small hands flitted across the man's injury, assessing it in mere seconds. She nodded every now and then. "I can handle this," she assured them all, though it was obvious from all their admiring looks that they had no doubt in that. _

_As Ino watched, Sakura placed one hand on the man's chest near the crater of the injury and grabbed the branch with the other hand. The man let out a low moan, but when they glanced at him, he was still unconscious. Suddenly, with such finesse and grace that she made it look easy, Sakura used her super strength to yank out the huge piece of wood, and set it down easily on the ground. Simultaneously, in one movement, she slipped her other hand into the gaping wound, beginning to heal it instantly. _

_Barely a half cup of blood was lost. _

_When the Godaime's apprentice had finished her sealing and had stabilized the man, she turned her attention back to Ino, and wiped the blood on her scrubs professionally. Ino pressed her lips together as she awaited the inevitable and deserved chastising. _

_"You could have killed him," Sakura hissed. She didn't reply. "You're not ready for that sort of stuff, Ino." The blonde swallowed the bile that rose in her throat, along with her pride. "Now go and find a patient that needs you." _

The scenario kept running through her head, over and over again, beating her down. She was so stupid, so dumb, and so _useless_.

_Go and find a patient that needs you_

_…a patient that needs you_

_…a patient that needs…_

She choked back a frustrated sob. Why was she even in this village? Nobody needed her. She was just _there_. She wasn't blind enough to think that she hadn't made mistakes in her life. She'd made a lot, more than your average person. But still, why did things always fall through for her? Why couldn't she do anything right?

With a small click, she opened the door to the flower shop. Quietly, miserably, she made her way up to her apartment. Not even a shower or bed sounded good to her now. Just a deep dark hole in and a shovel. She wiped her nose with a small sniffle and dropped her bags on the ground beside the door, ignoring the obnoxious crashing sounds they made.

And that was when she smelled it.

Rich and sweet. It flowed over her like warm water, soothing and gentle, yet not over powering. She swallowed the saliva the aroma tempted from her tongue. The cup was waiting for her, round and huge, the biggest one she owned, on the counter. All by itself, just sitting there in the middle. She let out a trembling, hopeful breath.

She could tell, just by staring into its soft brown depths that it had been prepared just the way she liked it. Two lumps of sugar and plenty of milk. Sweet enough for a woman, but not yet losing its customary and signature bitter taste. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the warm, still steaming mug and brought it to her lips. She could have moaned. The taste was just so perfect, and at such a perfect time.

Coffee.

She took another sip, then padded silently into the living room. There he was, fast asleep on the couch, still fully clothed and without even a blanket to keep him warm. He looked, she thought, almost as if he had been waiting up for her, but had just been too tired. She glanced down at her coffee. But he had made her this, and that…was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her.

It didn't matter at the moment, where he had gotten the beans, or the money to get them. All that mattered was the bliss she felt at that moment, and that he was the one responsible.

Smiling slightly, she set her drink down and went to the closet to grab a blanket. It was thick and a little cumbersome, but it was warm and the night was chilly. Slowly, stealthily, she settled the blankets over the man's stretched out form. He was so vulnerable…

And yet it didn't occur to her to take advantage of that.

She sat there, drinking her coffee and watching him sleep for awhile. Then she put her cup away, but could still not bring her eyes away from that peaceful face. She had never seen him sleep before, and the change was astounding. His face was _calm_ instead of filled with its usual churning emotions.

Without knowing exactly what she was doing, Ino reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. It was warm to the touch, and smoother than she had expected. She caressed it softly, transfixed. Her fingers stroked from his temple to his chin, until common sense snatched back the offending appendage. What was she thinking?

The answer: nothing. She turned and padded off to bed.

* * *

If one side of him had been doubting the wisdom of his investment, it was certainly not anymore. The rich, smooth taste of premium steak was enough to silence even the most skeptical of tongues. Even if he didn't get the information he wanted, this was well worth it. Zetsu sighed happily, sinking deep into the arm chair as he rolled a juicy chunk of flesh around in his mouth. Pure bliss.

"**This is what I call a breakfast**." And for once, he didn't disagree with him. Soon though, his peace was disturbed by the sound of the girl moving about. She'd been out late last night, he had to admit: he was surprised she was up already.

"M-morning," she mumbled around a yawn as she stumbled out of the hallway. He was halfway through a polite nod, when he saw her sleepy half lidded eyes widen dangerously. Instinctually, he tensed, as though ready for an attack.

"What is that," she demanded quietly, taking a step towards him. All vestiges of sleep were chased out of her by her suddenly hostile mood. Zetsu was sure he knew what was on her mind though, and it brought a slight smirk to his lips. He glanced lazily from her to the expensive meat in his hands.

"_Steak_."

"Steak?" Her voice had deteriorated from righteous anger to a certain hopelessness. She put her hand to her face and massaged the bridge of her nose, sighing. "Steak? Zetsu, I can't afford high class steak. And the coffee…" Zetsu wasn't sure what prompted him to cut his act so fast, to reassure her before she could despair too much, but yet it seemed almost natural.

"_You can now_." His voice was more gruff and brusque than usual, but the girl didn't seem to notice. She didn't pay attention to his tone of voice anymore. She's learned not to take things like that too personally. What she was still learning was how to read between the lines of his sometimes roundabout way of speaking.

"What do you mean," she asked, frowning slightly. She was curious, but she looked suspicious, too. As though she were waiting for him to play a trick on her. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"_Go look in the store safe_." She narrowed her eyes, but edged towards the door anyway.

"Why—"

"**Just go already**." Their fight from almost a week ago was obviously still fresh in her mind, and she hurried down the stairs without wasting anymore of his time. There was a sensation, in the back of his minds. It was unfamiliar to him, but yet he thought he could place it. Guilt. Or perhaps it was just eagerness at completing the next step of his plan, and worry that if she stayed angry with him, she wouldn't help. Or maybe it wasn't.

Yet for all his 'guilt', he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions. Given the choice, he knew he'd do it again.

He could hear her now, moving about downstairs. There was the creak of the hinges as she opened the rusty old safe, and then silence. A long moment of jaw dropping silence. Suddenly, with the stealth of a genin, she was pounding up the stairs, each footfall clearly audible. She ran through the door, slamming it open as she entered. Her hair mussed, her cheeks rosy and her eyes bright, Zetsu felt an unbidden smile touch his lips. There were three large bills clutched in her hands.

A few of many.

"Are these…?"

"**Yours now. We make a lot of money in our line of—**" Suddenly, he was cut off as she launched herself at him. In his sitting position, he couldn't have reacted in time if he tried, though he didn't. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, not even heeding his fly trap. He felt her bury her face in his shoulder.

"Oh Zetsu. Thank you. Thank you so much…" Zetsu awkwardly, yet with a small smirk, wrapped a black arm around her waist, returned the impromptu embrace.

And he knew he had been forgiven.

* * *

A/N Well there it was. I was relatively proud of this chapter, and I hope you guys liked it took. Please please please pop me a review to tell me what you guys thought. This chapter had better make me break one hundred of 'em! :D

~Yuki


	7. Touches and Treachery

A/N Oh. My. Gosh. Guys. Can anyone else believe that I am possibly here tonight actually updating. I thought the fire for this story was absolutely gone. I thought it was never coming back. But here I am! Actually updating! I don't know when the next one will be, I can't promise anytime soon. But my goodness guys I'm still alive!

Thank you so much to all of you were the constant stream of positivity that kept reminding me that the story was NOT dead. Thank you all so much. You all rock and there's too many of you to thank individually. Check out Zetsubel's fic Seek and Destroy though because she and her story were part of inspiriation to write this again. Anyway-

Just to recap, last night was the super long hospital night where Sakura was a bitch then Zetsu left the coffee and then in the morning Zetsu gave her all the money and then she hugged him and we pick up just after she hugged him. And breathe. Haha, enjoy guys!

Disclaimer: blah blah blah get on to the story.

* * *

"_Have you spoken to your friend recently?_" Zetsu watched her shoulders tense a bit at his voice. He hadn't spoken a word since she had, not briefly either, _hugged_ him. He could remember with unnerving clarity her warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, her nose nuzzling against his neck, and her chest pressed against his. As soon as she had realized her actions she had leapt away immediately, of course, but the deed had been done.

"My friend," the girl asked uncertainly as she creased a shirt. She was sitting with her back to him, folding laundry. He was sitting in his same chair, watching her, planning rapidly, thinking of how to phrase his questions and demands. He had arrived in Konoha with little more than his cloak and weapons, nothing to aid him in his subterfuge, but now… Now he had the perfect malleable tool, just waiting to be manipulated.

"_Yes. The ANBU member. Have you spoken to him?_" He didn't think so. He had kept careful tabs on the girl, unwilling at times to let her out of his sight; he would practically have to live through her for his plan to work. His confidence was high though: the coffee, the money, all brilliant ideas he had to congratulate himself on.

**That wasn't why we stayed up all night**, he thought, but the notion was quickly put down, dismissed as trivially emotional. The girl didn't answer right away. He could mentally see her lips turning down in a frown, her eyebrows knitting together. He didn't care if she questioned his motives. She would have to be daft not to.

"Shikamaru?" A slight pause that served as his affirmative. "No, not much. He's too busy chasing _you_." Zetsu stiffened at the change in her voice. It had turned guilty and accusing. She was always wrestling with torn and indecisive feelings on his part, he was sure. The point was to get her to stay that way: wrestling. She couldn't throw the kunai at him while still grappling. .

"_He has access to vast stores of information,_" he continued, slightly pointlessly. He was stating the obvious. "_Information on the Akatsuki?_"

"I wouldn't know. It's not like he goes around gossiping about it," Ino said, waving a hand flippantly over her shoulder. Zetsu wondered if she realized just how transparent she was. When she was truly at ease, truly being honest, she faced him. Met his eyes, even. The girl was by no means shy, yet her back was still to him. This conversation made her uneasy, she didn't want to show it, but to him her body language spoke volumes. "He doesn't tell _me_ anything at least."

"_Don't lie to me_."

"**I work with Uchiha Itachi. I only wanted information on him**," his other half cut in now. Demands, coercion, and scare tactics were all very well, but this girl had other senses to appeal to than the one of self preservation.

"Itachi," she questioned, glancing back at him now. She'd heard him mention the other Akatsuki a number of previous times, and now she was curious. "Why would you need any more information on him? You work with him."

"**Exactly**_._"

"_No one in Akatsuki can be trusted; least of all one who murdered their own clan_," Zetsu explained, and he wasn't even lying. Stretching the truth perhaps, but not straight out lying.

"**We're just trying to protect ourselves**." The change in her countenance was so obvious. Yes, there were _much_ more effective ways than fear and threats. Zetsu turned and stared thoughtfully out the window. There was a word he had used when he first met her. It was the word that had convinced her to let him stay. He hadn't used it since.

"_In our current predicament, however, there's nothing we can do about it_." He pinned on her the full effect of his yellow-eyed stare. "_We _need_ you to get the information for us_." She sat up straighter, her eyes brightening at the word.

"Well, maybe. Next time I see him," she said, and she set one of her folded tank tops into the laundry basket. Zetsu nodded, pleased, and ended the conversation. They sat in silence; an easy silence, a comfortable silence. The silence almost of two people contented for the moment. He with the smooth progression of his plan and she with whatever it was that pleased her. After a few minutes, Zetsu happened to glance at the clock. Quarter of an hour until the opening of the shop.

With no word of explanation, he got up and took the remaining laundry from her. Before she could protest, he directed a pointed look at the clock. She instinctively followed his gaze and leapt up with a slightly overdramatic yelp.

"The shop," she exclaimed, then disappeared into the bedroom in the back, calling over her shoulder. "I have to get ready to open it up. Finish that laundry for me please!" The plea was unnecessary as he was already folding what she had left behind. He executed the chore quietly, almost lazily, amusedly observing the girl's harried and rushed attempt to make herself presentable before going out in public.

She worried too much about what other people thought, their opinion of her swayed too much her opinion of herself.

"Are you coming down or are you going to stay up here?" The blonde was standing by the door to the stairs and watching him impatiently. Zetsu stood up.

"_Coming._"

During the first days of his stay, the wary kunoichi would have watched his every move as he descended the narrow stair case directly behind her. She would have searched for a weakness in him that would allow her to escape. Now, she did not. In a warped way, she trusted him. She trusted him not to spring on her the moment she turned her back; trusted him not to slit her throat in her sleep. She did not trust him with her secrets, with her village's safety, with her life. But in a way, she trusted him. She displayed this by dashing down the stairs as soon as he stood up, knowing he would follow.

He took his time descending the stairs at a respectable pace. When he entered the sweet smelling room, she was still spritzing and trimming his bonsai. She glanced up when he entered and spared a brief smile before clipping off a tiny branch.

"You know, the shop might not even need these now," she said. "Looks like we won't go under after all." Zetsu did not reply and only waited for her to quickly finish. When she had turned her back to open the shop he morphed into the bonsai. She was smiling when she turned back around.

She continued smiling for the rest of the day. At customers, at her flowers, and even at him. He had never seen her smile so much, though that made sense. His white side was simply buzzing with anticipation and pride, while his black side was pleased, yet for seemingly different reasons.

Despite his pleasure though, he began to shifting uncomfortably in his bonsai. He was cramped and this day at the flower shop had achieved nothing. He had a lot to do tonight to prepare for another meeting with the other Akatsuki and his time was wasted watching a dithering blond putter back and forth with her pretty flowers.

**We shouldn't have even come down. It's not like she's gonna run off and turn us in now**, he thought. One of his leaves was shaken free in irritation. **After what we did for her, we have a couple weeks at the least where she won't cross us at all.**

_We don't want this to seem like a give and take deal. We are posing as kind and considerate. The kind and considerate do not then demand cooperation after their gifts_, he sniffed back. _Just be patient_. _It's only twenty minutes until closing time._

The welcoming bell had jingled at sometime during Zetsu's argument and when he looked back up he was greeted with the ironically unwelcomed sight of a Hyuuga girl and a large man. The blonde was already embracing each of them. Looked like the shop might close late today.

"Hinata," Ino exclaimed. "I'm so glad you stopped by. And Chouji, I haven't seen you in months." She wrapped her arms around his neck, for perhaps a bit longer than completely necessary, and unfortunately for her, everyone in the room was extremely observant.

"We met at the market and decided to come by and see you, too," Hinata said, smiling as she made herself at home in the shop. She picked up a watering can and began filling it up.

"Yeah, and there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Chouji said, with a coy look. Ino didn't have to be a genius to figure out what he meant. Shikamaru had been quick to inform his best friend of his success with their former teammate.

"Oh me too," Hinata piped up as she watered a purple flower. "I leave tomorrow on a mission." Ino felt her mouth fall open slightly.

"A mission," she repeated, maybe a bit insipidly. "But… to where?" Hinata was not a better ninja than her. She couldn't be. Not the shy, stuttering girl who couldn't even master her own bloodline limit, surely not that girl. Ino hadn't been offered a mission in months, how was it that this girl had?

"All the way to Lightening country!" Hinata gave her an exceptionally large, if nervous smile and had started fiddling with her fingers again. But it wasn't the shy sort of fiddling she used to do, it was anticipation. It was that before mission buzz Ino couldn't even remember feeling anymore. As Ino looked harder at the purple haired girl, she realized something that she'd always known but hated to admit.

Hinata wasn't the same shy stuttering girl. She was tall, beautiful, strong, talented, and with her own unique skills. She was better than Ino. She was a better ninja, a better kunoichi, of more value to her village; needed by her village.

Ino forced a happy smile.

"That's so exciting," she exclaimed. Before her smile could break, or her lie could be seen in her eyes she looked back down at her bonsai. "I suppose you can't tell me much, but how long do you think you'll be gone?"

"Only a week if all goes well," Hinata replied, and now that she had seen Ino's positive reaction she was absolutely glowing with excitement. If she were anyone else, Ino would have wanted to punch her. But no matter how envious you got of the heiress, she was impossible to get mad at. Chouji had apparently already heard all about Hinata's mission and he was off in a corner with some exotic blossom now. None the less though, Hinata checked to make sure he was out of earshot before lowering her voice and saying, "And Neji's going to be coming too."

Ino raised an eyebrow. "Is he?" She instinctively glanced at the male too, before stepping closer and conversing in hushed tones. "So you're sure, then, about how you feel about him? You really like him like that?"

"I…I think it might not just be like, Ino," Hinata said slowly after a moment's deliberation. "It's hard to explain, but… I really love him. You understand that sort of thing don't you?" Hinata's eyes were earnest. Ino wanted to say that of course she understood. She was a master of all things with a Y chromosome wasn't she? But no, she did not understand. She had never loved a man. Sasuke, she knew, had been nothing more than a crush. All the other men were nothing more than one night stands. She could not understand.

"Of course I do," she replied with a small smile. "I understand completely. And you know Hinata"— she put a hand on her shoulder—"I think he'll take care of you better than any other man ever could."

"I don't think he will." Hinata's voice fell. "He doesn't feel the same. He probably doesn't even realize how I feel."

"Hinata." Ino's voice was that stern sort that all girls used on their fellows when trying to snap them out of their self-deprecating bouts. "Neji is a prodigy of the Byakugan. He is certainly not that blind." She grinned, and was pleased to see Hinata giggle back.

"I suppose." Whatever else she may have been planning to say was cut off by the bell jingle as the devil walked in the door. Speak of him and he shall come, after all. Ino and Hinata quickly stepped apart, trying not to look as though they had just been talking very deeply about him. Neji, however, always observant, seemed to realize something was up and had the decency to look at least slightly embarrassed.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but Hinata, your father wants to see us before we depart on our mission tomorrow," he said, and for a moment Ino heard his voice as Hinata must. That stereotypical warm flowing chocolate. And all of its seductive powers were aimed purely at the pretty girl at Ino's side. If Hinata didn't see Neji's attraction to her, than she was blinder than she thought he was.

"Of course." The Hyuuga straightened up quickly and followed her cousin to the door, but not before giving Ino a quick embrace. "Wish me luck. I'll see you as soon as I get back!" And then she was gone. Really gone. Ino felt as though she could no longer hope to catch up to her.

"Ino." The blonde started in surprise as Chouji's voice murmured near her ear. For a moment she had forgotten he was even there. She felt his big hands come down on her shoulders and pull her partly against his chest in that comforting half embrace he had given her after hard missions when she started brooding. "Don't be jealous of that, you'll get even better one day."

"What are you talking about?" Ino brushed his hands away good naturedly, trying to laugh his perceptions off. "What am I jealous of?" She sat behind her counter across from him and placed her elbows on the surface comfortably. She was smiling widely, but Chouji only offered her a quiet sincere one.

"Hinata and Neji," he replied. "You're lonely." Ino opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Don't tell me I'm wrong, I know you way better than you think I do. I know you're lonely, and you want someone, and that's why I'm so _happy_ you made that promise to Shikamaru." He had a hopeful smile on now, and Ino felt almost out of her element in a weird way.

However, the first thought that had come to her, was of Zetsu. Did Chouji really know her that well? If he did, could he guess that she was hiding the criminal? Would she be caught? Then what would happen to Zetsu? He was powerless to help himself. She couldn't let him down. She dismissed the thought train quickly, before it could become apparent in her face.

"I get you're proud of me, but I don't get exactly how it's going to magically make me not lonely anymore," she said skeptically, yet amusedly. There was something about the contagious excitement hanging around him now that made her feel almost giddy.

"Now you can find a real guy," Chouji explained. "You're not just gonna go to a bar and get drunk and… well everything that comes after that." Maybe Ino's eyes deceived her, but it looked as though a light blush had found its way onto Chouji's swirl adorned cheeks. "You'll get a guy you connect to now. That _cares_ about you." He reached forward and grabbed Ino's hand, looking into her eyes with such intensity she had to look away. It made her feel almost uncomfortable, but also, almost in a good way.

"T-That would be nice, wouldn't it," she said indulgently. She looked up at the clock, and Chouji took the hint.

"It's almost closing time," he said, standing up, but not releasing her hand. "Good luck, and stay in touch." He smiled and kissed her on the cheek before striding out the door. As Ino watched him leave, she felt the air displace behind her and Zetsu's earthy scent fill her nose.

"Zetsu, what are you doing," she gasped, turning to confront the tall figure. But he wasn't looking at her. That unreadable yellow gaze was still staring after the large man. "I haven't even closed the shop yet."

"**I don't care, I was cramped**," he muttered. "**And you're lucky I only came out now, I was close to taking out that fat bastard. Irritating lump." **Ino, who had gotten up quickly to shut the shop and draw the curtains, turned to gape at him.

"Don't say that," she snapped. "He's a good man." She glared at him, confused a bit by his outburst but indignant and protective enough that she was more interested in sticking up for her teammate. Zetsu sniffed.

"**Yeah sure, whatever you say**."

"_Continue closing the shop please_."

Ino turned her back on him and did just that. Let him be a jerk if he wanted. She closed the curtains tightly, and flipped the sign over. Of course, she could no longer lock the door, because Zetsu was still in possession of the keys. She had given up the thought of ever getting them back long ago. She had offered to get copies made of them, but he had been right to point out that that would have looked much too suspicious.

As Ino pulled out the cash register to start counting the meager earnings, she realized just how much less stressful it was than every other time she had done it. This time, when she came out to a less than satisfactory number it didn't mean yet more cut backs. It was just disappointing. She had a cushion now, a cushion of security. Because of him.

She looked up and watched Zetsu lean intently over a cluster of orange flowers. His fly trap was opened wide to allow him better access, leaving his torso relatively exposed. It was ripped with muscle, all working seamlessly together at his every movement. His amber eyes were focused hard on the flower he tended. All of his startling intelligence, and for all his cruelty, focused an innocent, superfluous being.

His eyebrows were furrowed in his concentration and his tousled green hair fit with all the other plants in the room. His skin shone with just the faintest sheen of sweat, both his black half and his white. They were such startling contrasts and yet after being around him, Ino had come to accept that he was in fact, one man.

It wasn't until she was halfway towards him, that Ino realized she had even come out from behind the counter. How could he _be_? She found herself wondering. He was a marvel, truly. Such an incredible blend of humanity and the plants that had always fascinated her. How could such a creature really be?

When she came level with him, he glanced up about to say something in respect to the flower, but stopped. She saw the momentary confusion flit through his eyes before he straightened up and slightly away from her. He watched her warily. Somehow unafraid, she reached out and grabbed gentle hold of the side of his fly trap.

"This is truly amazing, you know," she murmured, stepping closer and running her hands along the smooth surface of the plant material. He did not reply. She almost wanted to take samples of it. It definitely had the cell make up of vegetation. This rigidity had to come from the presence of cell walls. So unlike the human part of him.

Her eyes slid away from her scientific query, to the face that watched her cautiously. He was pretty. Despite his strange coloring, his features were elegant, and eyes endless. Abnormal was the cruel word she had first used to describe him, exotic suited him better. Tilting her head curiously to the side, she took her hand from his fly trap and slipped it onto his cheek.

His skin was strangely smooth, with none of the rough stubble on other men. And it was warm, because despite it all, he was human. Smooth, and warm. She felt herself drawn closer to him, his smell encasing her. Her hand slipped softly from his cheek to his neck in a natural caress, and as she leaned closer she was prepared for more than that.

But, suddenly, a white hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. A black one came up in front of him, almost defensively. She froze, and met his eyes. It wasn't an angry expression he had; she'd seen that one many times. This was something else she found much harder to place. It was an uncertainty, almost a fear.

The grip on her wrist was firm, but it wasn't painfully. He pulled her hand away from him, and took one, two, three steps back. His other arm he held in front of him subconsciously protective. The moment of his weakness though was brief, and in seconds his arms were down at his sides as he stood tall. He gave her an indecipherable look, before turning and heading back up to the apartment.

Ino watched him go, then took one last look around the shop, and followed him up. She took a shower and made dinner while Zetsu sat in his chair and brooded. It was quite, though not completely silent. Their interaction was easy enough, but the atmosphere was taut. Finally, as Ino was cleaning the dishes, Zetsu laid a hand on hers and pulled it away from a plate.

"_Go to bed_," he ordered. Ino glanced at the clock and looked away, understanding. His late night excursions were no longer a secret among them, but they weren't openly discussed. She took the hint and nodded, leaving to go back to her room, but just before disappearing down the hall, she turned.

"Zetsu," she began, but then stopped. He turned and raised an eyebrow. What had she been about to say? What was there to say about something unspoken? She bit her lip while Zetsu waited expectantly. "Be careful, I guess." Then she hurried back into her room and shut the door.

* * *

Ino sat up in bed with a gasp. Her heart pounded in her chest, and for a few moments all she could here was her own rushing blood and panicked breath. The room was pitch black, and she closed her eyes, forcing her breath back down. Then, she opened them again, and this time she could make out the shadowy shapes of her furniture. All was quiet—

Then there was another crash like the one that had awoken her and a thud. Ino shoved her blanket off and jumped out of bed, lurching towards the door. She slammed into the corner of her dresser with a curse and a bruise, then proceeded to bang into the walls of her narrow hallway.

Then she came to the living room, stopped, and gasped.

"Zetsu…"

There was a smear of blood on the window sill, and then another on the floor, and then her eyes alighted on the tangled mess wrapped up in a shredded Akatsuki cloak. He was braced against the wall with one arm while another dangled uselessly at his side. Blood stained the fabric that hung in tatters around him. The remnants revealed more than they covered.

When he met her eyes, his were only a cloud of pain, none of the usual intelligence or spark or humanity. Only pain and desperation. He took a clumsy step towards her, one foot dragging behind him. He moaned.

"Zetsu!"

Ino ran to him just in time to catch him as he fell forward into her. His weight was tremendous, but she bore it. He opened his mouth, trying to say something but she shook her head vigorously. "No, be quiet. Please, be quiet. Let me help you." Slowly, painfully, he nodded.

She dragged him, as gently as she could to the bathroom. Her heart was beating so fast. How could this happen? What had happened? To him; to Zetsu; to the Akatsuki? How did this sort of thing happen to him? She'd even told him to be careful.

He didn't say anything as she heaved him through the door and into the bathtub, only moaned and grunted softly. His eyes, there was nothing there, it was terrifying. She got up quickly and grabbed her kunai from her pack, then ran back and started cutting the clothes from his body.

"I'm sorry, Zetsu. I have to," she apologized profusely. This seemed like such a violation of the private man, and somehow she simply could not look at this clinically. This was not just another patient. This was Zetsu and he could die. This larger than life figure could actually die.

Finally, she had pulled all the clothes from his body except for a strip around his pelvis. She had to give him some decency. She turned on the water, hot. There was so much mud and dirt caking him. When she looked behind her she realized the blatant trail of blood and dirt they had left. She couldn't get to the wounds with all that grime.

There was something else in her way as well. That massive fly trap that so fascinated her made it nearly impossible for her to get at his injuries. There was no room for him to open it wide like he had the first time, and even if there was it would still be an obstruction. She growled in frustration.

"Zetsu, listen to me," she said quietly, yet urgently. She grabbed his face gently and forced him to look her in the eyes. She felt as though they were seeing right through her. "I need you to get rid of that flytrap. If there's any way to do that, please do it." His eyes drifted to the side. "Zetsu! Listen to me. Get that thing out of my way." There was a fleeting moment of lucidity in his eyes, and then he closed them.

His jaw clenched, and he began trembling just slightly. Then, slowly, the fly trap began to shrink. It shrank into him, morphing into his body before Ino's very eyes. The strain was etched clearly in his rigidity, but inch by excruciating inch the fly trap disappeared until it was gone; seamlessly gone. Despite the situation, Ino took a moment to take in the odd picture of Zetsu as just a man. Not an ordinary man by any means, but with a purely human form.

Then the water finally climbed up to his chest and Ino started scrubbed. Within seconds the water was a flat brown, and she drained it and started all over again. When he was finally clean, she assessed his injuries. Numerous lacerations, a broken arm, a shattered leg, two cracked ribs, two completely broken ones, a growing welt along the white side of his face, and bruises adorning everything else that was relatively untouched.

The night was long. Longer than any night Ino had ever spent at the hospital. She had to prioritize. She could not fix everything. She sealed any life threatening cuts, and left the rest. She pieced back the broken ribs, but left them slightly cracked. She started the healing process on the broken arm. Then hours were spent finding and putting back together all the bone shards that had once formed his right leg. By the time she had exhausted herself, the night was not so dark.

"**Stay**." Zetsu's eyes were finally open again and this time there was clarity, yet an exhaustion in them. His voice was breathy and shallow. Ino hung over the side of the bathtub, resting her head on the cool porcelain. Slowly, a black hand, with a through and through in the palm, reached up and rested clumsily on her head. "**Stay**."

Ino looked at him through her half lidded eyes, then closed them and nodded. She let out a sigh and let her body sag. Zetsu leaned back in the water, and unconsciousness took its hold.

* * *

"Ino!"

There was a persistent knocking on the door.

"Ino, open this door right now!"

The knocking turned into a banging.

Ino's eyes flew open, and she pushed herself away from the tub in a sudden panic. Shikamaru! What was he doing here? She glanced around herself and the night flooded back. Zetsu caked in blood and dirt, healing all night, falling asleep at the tub. Zetsu still lay in the water, and in the light of the day his injuries looked all the more grievous. His eyes were opening blearily.

"Stay quiet," she whispered, then followed the trail of debris out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. This trail… did it extend outside? It was so obvious. An inedible trail of bread crumbs. Surely he wouldn't have left one. Surely not, oh please not.

Terrified, but trying to hide it, Ino opened the door. In front of her stood Shikamaru. His ANBU uniform was still on and his eyes were rimmed with sleepless bags. But they were fierce and serious and they looked straight through her. He had never looked so formidable.

"Ino, we need to talk about the Akatsuki."

* * *

A/N Soooo, what'd you guys think. It was weird writing this. I'd actually forgotten everything that happened and had to go back and read ALL of my previous chapters. Then I had to recap over my notes too. But there it was and I hope you liked it! So please review! :D Hope to see you next time. (Hope there is a next time. :P)

~Yuki


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